


In the Hearts of Men // Tenn Irude

by Winterkript



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Prequel Trilogy
Genre: "bed", Alcohol, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst, Bounty Hunter Obi-Wan Kenobi, Bounty Hunters, Canon Dialogue, Canon-Typical Violence, Family Bonding, Festivals, Force Visions, Foreshadowing, Heart-to-Heart, Issues With the Force, Loss of Trust, M/M, Mandalorian Culture, Mandalorians (Star Wars), Mercenaries, Minor Injuries, Minor Original Character(s), Misunderstandings, Obi-Wan Kenobi is a Mess, Original Character(s), Post-Star Wars: The Phantom Menace, Pre-Star Wars: Attack of the Clones, Qui-Gon Jinn Lives, Secret Identity, Sharing a Bed, Slavery, Slow Burn, Time Skips, True Mandalorians (Star Wars), Trust, Trust Issues, Vacation
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-04-26
Updated: 2021-02-28
Packaged: 2021-03-02 08:47:59
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 29
Words: 179,599
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23848432
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Winterkript/pseuds/Winterkript
Summary: During a short life of trouble with the Force, Obi-Wan gets a vision. Taking fate into his own hands, he changes what was supposed to happen. Only, doing that comes with a great cost. Guilty of his actions, Obi-Wan decides to leave (most of) everything he knew behind. But much to his dismay, he’s unknowingly jumping from one frying pan to the next.
Relationships: Jango Fett & Rozatta, Jango Fett/Obi-Wan Kenobi, Obi-Wan Kenobi & Rozatta
Comments: 427
Kudos: 784





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I name fics after songs! This fic is named after two songs; [In the Hearts of Men](https://youtu.be/dZeoW2eue3Q) and [Open Arms](https://youtu.be/3ByIYof4mqo).

_The air was cold, which was strange. The sun had been shining the past few days in Theed and none of the days had yet to be cold. It was all mild and beautiful, weather that made Obi-Wan wish he were outside instead of playing politics inside. But the people of Naboo were pleasant enough, the Queen truly cared for her people._

_Obi-Wan didn’t know where he was but he was vaguely aware of dark mist swirling in the air around him and clouding his vision. He was unable to see very far but the floor was a type of heavy metal beneath his feet. The Force was troubled all around him, like a thick blanket that was too itchy to be considered anywhere near comfortable, pounding like a fast heartbeat._

_Obi-Wan took a step forward and found that his lightsaber was drawn. He immediately took to his stance. The Force around him grew even more troubled, somehow. His feet automatically took off. Just then did he recognize the sound of colliding lightsabers ahead. And then it was quiet. A red translucent barrier popped up in front of him. He stowed his saber until he felt the barrier begin to shut down._

_He didn’t move last enough to beat the last barrier. A feeling deep in his gut told him something bad was about to happen. And then, it did._

_Obi-Wan was finally granted more sight, able to see further than before. Just in time to see a dark figure with a double-sided ‘saber stab one end right through Qui-Gon’s gut. Obi-Wan screamed as he watched his Master fall to the floor. The attacker spun around to face him and prepped their blade for another fight._

_Obi-Wan experienced some sort of whiplash. Suddenly he wasn’t behind the barrier anymore, things were black, then he was staring into shocked, sickly-looking yellow-red eyes._

* * *

Obi-Wan sat up suddenly, breathing heavily and blinking wildly and way too hot for comfort. His blanket pooled around his waist and his shirt was threatening to fall off a shoulder. Qui-Gon was still asleep in the bed. Meanwhile, Obi-Wan was in a nest of spare blankets on the floor – _not_ that he was complaining. It wasn’t the most comfortable, but as a Padawan, he was used to it. They had to stay in the same room and this was the one available to them. When he was a Knight and had his own Padawan, he would get the luxuries first and his Padawan would be in the situation like he was in. 

Qui-Gon was alive and sleeping as soundly as he always does. Obi-Wan reached out with the Force to poke at the edges of Qui-Gon’s presence just to make sure that his Master was fine. He was, so the Padawan got up carefully and slipped into the connected refresher of their guest room. There he finally relinquished some of the control on his emotions and stared down at his trembling hands. 

That… vision or dream… it felt _way_ too real. Yoda always said to take heed of one’s visions because they almost always spoke the truth if they’ve never misled you in the past, and Obi-Wan’s previous visions have always been trustworthy. 

Even awake, the Force around him seemed troubled. Obi-Wan didn’t understand why and he didn’t like it. He activated the faucet to splash cool water on his face, also getting his hands wet to run through his hair. 

With not much else to do, Obi-Wan returned to his sleeping spot. Reaching out with the Force once more, he poked at the edge of Qui-Gon’s presence again. Qui-Gon was still sleeping deeply, but he shifted and made a noise when Obi-Wan lost his focus and realized he was pushing too much. He withdrew and settled for the rest of the night. 

In the morning, Obi-Wan was the first to wake – as usual. The sun was just cresting the horizon, turning the water below orange. It was a sight to see. He wasn’t necessarily a fan of it but it was a change of scenery. 

After putting on all of his robes except his outermost brown robe, Obi-Wan opened the door to venture out for some tea. Only, there was a serving droid standing there holding a tray with tea on it. The droid tilted its head to and held out the tray more. 

“The Queen noticed you preparing things yourselves. She sends her regards,” the droid said softly. 

“Oh, there’s no need,” Obi-Wan said politely. 

The droid pushed the tray until it was nearly touching Obi-Wan’s chest. “She insists.” 

The Padawan bit his lip uncomfortably but he accepted the tray and said a quiet thanks. The droid took a step back and bowed at the waist. “It is a pleasure.” Then it walked off stiffly. 

Obi-Wan stepped back into his room and set the tray on the coffee table by the window. He settled on the little couch there and poured himself a cup of tea.

The tea was fresh and piping hot. Qui-Gon always wanted a cup when he woke up but he was still asleep. He wouldn’t want to be woken until another hour or so. A good reason why Obi-Wan didn’t want to accept the tea from the droid was so he could get and prepare it himself. That way, when he was done preparing it, Qui-Gon would be awake or ready to be woken. But now it was already prepared and cooling off. Waiting an hour meant it would be cooled down. Cold tea wasn’t very good. Their morning rituals got ruined by a serving droid. 

“One would think something bad was happening with the Force being as troubled as it is now, not a Padawan stewing,” Qui-Gon murmured. 

Obi-Wan just about spilled his tea. He probably would have if it weren’t for his Force-increased reflexes. He looked guiltily at his Master. 

“Sorry, Master. The tea is ready. I didn’t want to wake you. A droid delivered it,” Obi-Wan grumbled into his tea. He carefully kept his gaze out the window. He didn’t need to be consoled about leaking his emotions into the Force. 

“All will be fine,” Qui-Gon assured. He got out of bed, straightened himself, then joined his Padawan on the couch to pour his own tea. “You, know, you _can_ wake in the mornings if you think it’s necessary.” 

Obi-Wan shook his head and sipped his tea. 

They finished their tea with some of the biscuits that were on the tray. They were silent the entire time, Obi-Wan simply because he wasn’t in the mood to talk. They cleaned themselves and their room up then headed out. They headed down the halls and to a sitting area where the Queen and her handmaidens were. 

As they talked, Obi-Wan watched them all blankly. Qui-Gon did the talking for them, nothing that Obi-Wan would miss. After all, Qui-Gon loved to boast that he had the best negotiator Obi-Wan’s age to ever walk the halls of the Jedi Temple. Truthfully, Obi-Wan would love to sit next to everyone and whisper what to say in their ears. It would make situations so much easier. Just like how the Trade Federation was boxing Naboo in. 

Master and Padawan were getting sent up to the main Trade Federation’s ship to negotiate a deal. Obi-Wan wasn’t thrilled about it but it was all part of the job. A ship was arranged for them to fly up to the Federation ship. Obi-Wan flew it, nothing unusual for them. He was great at flying, Master and Padawan knew it. 

They were able to walk freely onto the ship. Their steps echoed in the empty corridors, no droids or workers were around. 

“Master, I don’t like this. The Force… it feels wrong…” Obi-Wan murmured as they walked. 

“Keep calm, Obi-Wan,” Qui-Gon instructed calmly. “You’ve been rattled before by the smallest happenings in the Force, but I will keep your unease in mind.” He smiled warmly and reached out to grip his Padawan’s shoulder comfortingly, ignoring the younger man’s unease. “I am thankful to have such a Force-sensitive Padawan.” 

A _too_ Force-sensitive Padawan. Too sensitive for their own good. Got them into trouble more than once before. Had them leaping at shadows before, too. Though maybe not this time. If Qui-Gon could feel what Obi-Wan felt this time… well, he’d be much less loose. 

“Stop stewing,” Qui-Gon chided quietly. 

Obi-Wan ducked his head, frowning. He still nodded and gave a quiet, “Yes, Master.” 

A serving droid intercepted them before they reached the bridge. It seemingly stepped out in front of them from nowhere, silver casing gleaming. 

“Ah, Jedi! Please, follow me,” it instructed. 

They walked down a few different halls to where they were seated in a conference room. The droid bowed at the waist to them then left the room, door sliding closed behind it. 

So the two Jedi waited. They sat patiently for a bit. It didn’t take Obi-Wan long to get antsy enough to pace the room and look out the window above the hangar. The droid returned with a platter of tea, seeming somehow stiffer than before. Obi-Wan sat back down to drink one cup, found it bland, so he resumed his pacing. 

The hangar was as busy as one would imagine a hangar to be. There were several ships docked and packs of combat droids sitting dormant, few on racks. It was odd but anything done in the hangar would probably seem odd. If anything, the oddest thing had to be that lack of activity. There was hardly any and the lack of movement was creepy. 

The next time the door slid open, Obi-Wan was slower to turn from looking out the small window but he felt the Force making the back of his neck itch. He pulled his hands from his sleeves and had his lightsaber activated as he turned around. A cloud of gas was beginning to fill the room, the door already shut to seal them in. Without communication, Master and Padawan stayed still, using the Force to prevent the gas from entering their lungs. 

The door opened again a few minutes later. Droids chattered about the likelihood of the Jedi’s survival outside. Through their bond, Qui-Gon counted down to when they would jump out and attack. Once it was time, Master and Padawan jumped from the room, tearing the droids down with their lightsabers. 

“I think it’s time we made our way to the bridge,” Qui-Gon announced, looking over his shoulder at his Padawan. There was a smirk on his face, one that Obi-Wan couldn’t quite return. 

“Right behind you, Master,” Obi-Wan hummed. 

They took off toward their original destination, encountering several more droids on the way – that they easily took out, of course. Obi-Wan enjoyed finally flexing his muscles instead of standing around silently or offering advice that got ignored. Though, he knew he and his teacher weren’t necessarily in the best position. 

The doors to the bridge were shut when they arrived so Qui-Gon began melting them an entrance with his lightsaber. Obi-Wan was in charge of watching their backs from three conjoining hallways. The incoming droids were relatively sparse. When the blast doors closed on Qui-Gon’s lightsaber, Obi-Wan started to worry. He wasn’t struggling to defend them – for the moment – but if more combat droids start to come after them, Obi-Wan might have a harder time defending them from all directions. 

“Master,” Obi-Wan warned when two droidekas rolled into view. It took them a few seconds to settle but it was enough time for Qui-Gon to pull his saber’s blade out from the door. 

“The vents.” The older of the two took a few steps aside and broke open a vent. He went through first as Obi-Wan covered their tails. He climbed in after. 

They hurried through the vents, Qui-Gon leading the way. Obi-Wan kept his mind carefully blank, not even reaching out with the Force to feel around or seeking comfort in the Force. Perhaps it would calm him down, but he turned his emotions off for the moment, and reaching out to the Force could potentially distract Qui-Gon. 

Qui-Gon got them to the hangar. The dormant droids Obi-Wan saw previously were now active and marching around the hangar. Several ships were running, some were getting filled up with droids and others were just waiting to get sent out. Their own ship was torn apart and smoking, clearly from an explosion. 

“Master?” Obi-Wan asked. He peeked around the crates they were hiding behind. Droids… everywhere… “It’s an army.” 

“Right,” Qui-Gon huffed. He took his turn getting a look at the sight. “Hop onto a ship. We meet back up planetside.” 

Obi-Wan nodded hastily. He identified the ship he was going to board and took off when he felt that Qui-Gon was ready to go through the Force. It was easy enough to slip aboard and hide. 

Obi-Wan barely escaped off the ship he stowed away on. To be honest, he barely even made it onto his ship safely. But he was on the ground of Naboo, running through a forest and away from the droid army. In fact, he knew he alerted some of the droids of his presence while fleeing the ship. Everything that could go wrong went wrong. He had to dismantle every droid on his ship and then he had been seen escaping, drawing more droids after him. The Force grated on his nerves as he ran and ran, the temperature of the current location and the layers of robes he wore weren’t doing anything to stifle the sweat beginning to bead his forehead. 

He became positive of getting chased when blaster shots rang behind him. They didn’t hit the dirt too far from his feet. But listening and following the Force led him safely to Qui-Gon. His Master was able to effortlessly deflect the shots back at the droids with his ‘saber. 

Obi-Wan stooped over and tried to regain his breath when he was at his Master’s side. It was then he realized they weren’t alone. A reptilian-looking biped stood next to Qui-Gon with no regard for personal space. A Gungan, he believed. 

“What’s this?” the Padawan blurted. 

“A local,” Qui-Gon muttered. He looked through the trees around them. “Let’s get out of here before more droids show up.” 

Their new addition made a noise when the duo turned and started off at the same time. He followed, and loudly. They had a place to be and things to do but they were in the forests of Naboo with a creature insistent on following. He finally offered a safe place for them to go; Gungan City. But as soon as the words were out of his mouth, he was retracting the offer. 

Qui-Gon pointed out the distant sound of the Trade Federation’s army in the distance. “That is the sound of a thousand terrible things headed this way.” 

A mutual understanding passed through Master and Padawan. They moved forward together toward the taller specimen, unwavering. Normally, Qui-Gon’s behavior wouldn’t be condoned and it was what he was doing in the moment that Obi-Wan was usually discouraged from doing. But desperate times call for desperate measures. Besides, it’s not like they were threatening to hurt their plus-one. 

“If they find us,” Obi-Wan started, a little excitedly but only sounding harsh, “they will crush us, grind us into tiny pieces, and _blast_ us into oblivion.” 

The Gungan moved his mouth once and said, “Oh.” But sure enough, he was leading them further into the trees, a different direction than they were already going. 

As they were moving, Qui-Gon asked, “What should we call you, friend?” 

“Oh! Mesa Jar Jar Binks!” he said excitedly and nearly tripped over his own feet trying to look at them while walking. 

Obi-Wan didn’t exactly know what he was to expect. Jar Jar was harmless in the Force and a total klutz without any outside interaction. Why he was out wandering the forests and not in Gungan City was odd. At the moment, he would be safer there. 

They arrived at a small pond. Jar Jar hopped right in and swam in a few lazy circles as the Jedi watched. 

“Rebreathers,” Qui-Gon instructed. 

Obi-Wan sighed internally as he pulled the device out from his outertunic and bit down on the mouthpiece. He enjoyed swimming but going an unknown distance under the surface made him a bit anxious. There was a difference, swimming freely and driving machinery underwater. 

It was hard to see where they were going exactly. It was dark and the water made Obi-Wan’s vision blurry. The Force was secure around him and he reached out with it to keep Qui-Gon and Jar Jar located to follow. Qui-Gon was doing the same, Obi-Wan could feel it. But he was careful not to reach too far and concentrated on breathing and following Jar Jar. 

They approached one of the domes and stepped through a barrier that held the water firmly back. Obi-Wan was a bit disoriented but it would take a fool to not notice the Gungans around them turning and walking away from the visitors. Obi-Wan got the urge to announce his displeasure but he knew it could be felt through the Force. 

Two Gungans on Kaadu approached soon enough, weapons drawn and pointed at Jar Jar. Obi-Wan resisted the urge to groan and hide his face in his hands. No, that was beneath him. He was a respectable Padawan and soon to be Knight, childish behavior was beneath him. 

In short, they were brought before the leader of the Gungans to request their aid for taking back Theed. It wasn’t a surprise to Obi-Wan when they were denied, but he was surprised when Qui-Gon resorted to using mind tricks to get something to go their way. They were granted a bongo to reach the core and Jar Jar to supposedly guide them. Then when they left, they were chased by fish of varying sizes. Obi-Wan was nervous about it until Qui-Gon spoke up and told him to let the Force guide him. Which, that was what Obi-Wan was doing – he had to rely on the Force to find the way through the tunnels. It was just that there were also so many fish he could feel around them and Jar Jar was freaking out beside him and making him tenser. Then their ship lost power but Obi-Wan fixed that soon enough… 

They surfaced in the bay by the city and got out. They had to swim to shore to the actual docks – and Qui-Gon used the Force to squeeze all the water out of their robes – but they were in the city again and that was the first step. The next step was to reunite with the Queen and get her off the planet. If the Federation was bringing an army to the planet, then they were going to be running low on options and escaping off-world would be their best action. 

So they snuck through the city, letting the Force guide them. Qui-Gon led the way, Obi-Wan right behind him to keep Jar Jar from rushing past them. They shadowed the Queen and her group until they were on an overpass. Right before the group would go under, Obi-Wan and Qui-Gon jumped down with lightsabers activated and took out the droids. Jar Jar fell down to join them, less gracefully. 

After a quick discussion, it turned out that communications were down. The next best option was to get the Queen to Coruscant to speak with the Supreme Chancellor herself. So they headed to the hangar, where Obi-Wan freed the pilots and Qui-Gon freed their ship. 

Their escape became even closer when their ship was attacked and they lost three of four droids trying to get the shield generator working again. To make things worse, they were losing power because the hyperdrive was leaking. 

“We’ll have to land somewhere to refuel and repair the ship,” Qui-Gon murmured. 

Obi-Wan was sitting in one of the co-pilot chairs to scan the system. He wasn’t happy with the results but they had to land somewhere or else they’d be stranded in space. 

He spoke up, “Here, Master, Tatooine. The Trade Federation has no presence here.” 

His Master came up behind him to look at what he found. Obi-Wan didn’t realize that his heart was beating a little faster than normal, and he was fully recovered from slicing a few droids in half. Tatooine should do and there was no reason as to why they would get in trouble, unless Qui-Gon did something rash. The planet was an under-the-radar type, with slavery and other activities the Republic would see as illegal. 

The pilot sent them on course to Tatooine but first, they had to inform the Queen. Captain Panaka was very unhappy about their destination but Qui-Gon _advised_ that it was their best option. The Queen, it seemed for the first time, was trusting his judgment. 

And so they were headed for Tatooine. Once they were close enough, they landed on the outskirts of a settlement. Qui-Gon dressed down for his venture. Meanwhile, Obi-Wan was ordered to stay back on the ship to make any repairs and keep anyone from sending transmissions. He wasn’t happy about his orders, especially when both Jedi felt a disturbance in the Force when they landed, but he knew not to disobey. So Jar Jar, a source of trouble, was going with his Master, along with a handmaiden and droid. It didn’t make sense to him but his Master was headed toward the settlement and wasn’t around to tell him to stop stewing. 

But as long as they all kept out of trouble and kept their heads down, nothing should go wrong… right?


	2. Chapter 2

Obi-Wan worked on the hyperdrive and stewed as long as he could until he felt like he might accidentally break something not yet broken. It didn’t help when the Federation sent a transmission threatening to kill Naboo citizens if the Queen didn’t return soon. So Obi-Wan had to be on high alert to make sure no one responded to it instead of meditating to calm himself down. Thankfully, he only needed to get the message across a few times. 

Qui-Gon, Jar Jar, R2-D2, and one of the Queen’s handmaidens, were gone all day. A sandstorm rolled through in the afternoon, chasing Obi-Wan from meditating outside to back inside. 

His Master contacted him later, about the boy who was the key to getting the part they need for the ship. And he was Force-sensitive with more midi-chlorians in his blood than Yoda. He explained what Anakin’s mother told him, about her carrying and the boy having no father. 

_“And I offered you up to podrace instead of the boy, since the boy’s mother was hesitant to let him go, initially,”_ Qui-Gon chuckled. 

Obi-Wan willed his mouth to move. “Sorry?” He didn’t like piloting, Qui-Gon knew that. 

_“You heard me. You’re a fine pilot. But Shmi agreed to let Anakin race."_ Then his Master was silent for a bit but he was still holding the button down to speak. _“It is best if you stay with the ship tomorrow. We saw Sebulba earlier today and Anakin informed me of him racing tomorrow.”_

Obi-Wan’s blood turned cold. He straightened his posture in his chair. There was no one else in the cockpit to see his discomfort, thankfully. “I think that is a good idea, Master. Stay safe tomorrow, and I hope Anakin wins the race.” Because if he didn’t, they were down their ship instead of just one part. 

Qui-Gon never contacted his Padawan to inform him how the race went. So Obi-Wan, who meditated through the night, was immensely surprised to open his eyes from meditation (a separate meditation from the one he had through the night) to see his Master approach on a mount, with another toting the supplies they had won. 

“That’s all the essential parts we need. I’m going back, I have unfinished business. I won’t be long,” Qui-Gon said from his mount. 

Obi-Wan had to squint his eyes to see his Master in the sunlight. “Why do I sense we’ve picked up another pathetic lifeform?” 

His Master looked unimpressed with him. “It’s the boy who’s responsible for getting us these parts. Get the hyperdrive generator installed.” 

Obi-Wan ducked his head at his Master’s scolding tone. He felt some of the man’s disgruntlement with him through their bond. “Yes, Master.” He watched his Master leave for a moment then turned to locate the part. 

The ship was bustling with activity as people prepared to leave and load on the other supplies that were brought back. Everyone kept out of Obi-Wan’s way as he boarded to install the new piece. And as he told Qui-Gon, it didn’t take long to install it. 

Once he was done, he went to stand on the ramp of the ship, arms in his sleeves, listening to the Force. It felt like it was pulling him in all directions and he didn’t know or understand why (he wasn’t even sure if he wanted to know). So he took to standing guard because it calmed his nerves more than pacing inside the ship would. The sooner Qui-Gon returns with the boy, the sooner they can leave the wretched planet. 

He felt it then. A dark presence in the Force. Something that shouldn’t be. He pulled out his commlink, dialing one of the few with a few button presses. “Master, I feel something wrong in the Force. _Someone_ wrong. It might be best if you hurry it up.” 

It took a few long seconds for his Master to answer. _“Yes, I can feel it, too. We are on our way.”_

As much as Obi-Wan wanted to start pacing, he kept his ground and waited for his Master to crest the horizon. Which he did, eventually, with a little boy running behind him. And the dark presence approaching rapidly behind. That figure also had a ‘saber and began to battle Qui-Gon once he was off his speeder and attacking. The boy kept running and was shouting, “Take off! Tell Obi-Wan to take off!” 

Obi-Wan didn’t question the order and bolted to the cockpit. There, he instructed the pilot to take off but slowly and in Qui-Gon’s direction. They weren’t leaving Qui-Gon behind, it was simply a little trick for immediate take-off. And the boy was running up the ramp so as long as he was steady, then they shouldn’t worry about him falling off yet. He should be smart enough to get up the ramp himself. 

Once Qui-Gon was on board, Obi-Wan properly met Anakin Skywalker, and they were off to Coruscant. 

Over their trip to Coruscant, Obi-Wan rested and worked on calming down with Qui-Gon through meditation. It was surprising to see how worked up he got just by not meditating with his Master for one night and coming into contact with a dark Force user and a being with twenty-thousand midi-chlorians in their blood. It was bad to see how riled up he managed to get when he should become a Knight soon. Not only that but Qui-Gon mentioned becoming Anakin’s Master. To become Anakin’s Master, he had to release Obi-Wan first. 

On Coruscant, they dropped the Queen and her retinue off before parting ways to speak with the Jedi Council. At their meeting, they first brought up the dark Force user Qui-Gon sparred with. It had to be a Sith, but the Council was wary. Then, as Obi-Wan began to leave, Qui-Gon didn’t move. 

“Master Qui-Gon?” Yoda questioned. “More to say, have you?” 

Qui-Gon buried his hands in his sleeves, worry hinted on the edges of his features. “With your permission, my Master, I have encountered a vergence with the Force. 

“Located around a person?” Mace Windu wondered. 

“A boy. His cells are the highest concentration of midi-chlorians I have ever seen in a lifeform. It’s possible he was conceived by the midi-chlorians.” 

“You refer to the prophecy of the one who will bring balance to the Force? You believe it’s… this boy?” 

“I don’t presume—”

“But you do,” Yoda interrupted. “Revealed, your opinion is.” 

“I request the boy be tested, Master.” As indifferent as Qui-Gon was trying to be, his pushiness wasn’t helping his calm demeanor stay neutral. 

“Oh. Trained as a Jedi, you request for him, hmm?” 

“Finding him was the will of the Force, I have no doubt about that.” 

Mace sighed. “Bring him before us.” 

Master and Padawan took their leave. Anakin was sent for but at the same time, there was a Senate meeting so communications would be delayed. They went for a stroll not too far from the Council meeting chambers, just in case. 

Obi-Wan didn’t know how he felt about Anakin. He was just a kid, but at the same time too old to begin training. Obi-Wan himself missed a couple of essential years of training but he at least began training as soon as it was possible (though he was also taken in when he was three, very different from the usual age of at least six months). And not to mention that Obi-Wan didn’t like the way the Force felt around the kid. He may have the most midi-chlorians ever recorded but that shouldn’t be a reason as to why the hairs on the back of Obi-Wan’s neck felt like they were ready to pop out of his skin when they were too close. 

So when they were standing on the balcony, Obi-Wan expressed some of his thoughts. Not all of them—like his deep, gut feelings, the ones that Qui-Gon insists that he should always trust—but the ones that were lighter. Like maybe if Qui-Gon was more willing to follow the rules, he’d be on the Council. 

All he got was a pat on the shoulder and simple, “You still have much to learn, Obi-Wan.” It made him sigh inwardly and sparked some worry for his and Anakin’s future. 

By the time the Council summoned the pair again, the sun had set and the night was glowing due to the planet's architecture. Obi-Wan was, admittingly, feeling a bit dreary as he followed his Master into the chamber to hear Anakin’s fate. He kept himself composed, however, and face blank so the Masters wouldn’t draw his feelings into whatever matters they decided. 

“The Force _is_ strong with him,” Plo Koon admitted. 

“He is to be trained then?” Qui-Gon, more or less, requested. 

“No,” Mace said simply. “He is too old.” 

Out of the corner of his eye, Obi-Wan saw Qui-Gon put his hands on his hips and toughened his exterior. 

“He _is_ the Chosen One. You must see it,” his Master insisted. 

“Clouded, this boy’s future is,” Yoda answered. 

Qui-Gon took a few steps forward to stand directly behind Anakin. He put his hands on the boy’s shoulders. “I will train him, then. I take Anakin as my Padawan learner.” 

“An apprentice, you have, Qui-Gon. Impossible, to take on a second.” 

“The Code forbids it,” Mace added. 

“Obi-Wan is ready,” Qui-Gon said, steely. A few Masters, specifically Yoda and Mace, looked doubtful. “He is headstrong and he has much to learn of the living Force, but he is capable. There is little more he can learn from me.” 

Obi-Wan wanted to snap back with something but all he did was send a small glare his Master’s way. He wasn’t headstrong like Qui-Gon but he definitely wasn’t as capable with the Force as he should be but with just a little more time, he knew he’d be stronger. 

“Young Skywalker’s fate will be decided later,” Yoda decided. 

They were getting sent back to Naboo with the Queen, to put pressure on the Trade Federation and hopefully draw out their attacker from Tatooine. There were more important things on their plate than making Obi-Wan a Knight and accepting Anakin as Qui-Gon’s Padawan. 

They returned to the Queen’s ship to wait for her and her company. By the time Obi-Wan was talking with Qui-Gon about Anakin, the Queen was arriving so their conversation was cut short. Not like Obi-Wan was getting listened to, anyway. Qui-Gon was stuck on having Anakin as his Padawan, no matter what Obi-Wan and the Council expressed. Anakin could have killed a man just because he wanted to and Qui-Gon would probably still defend him. It was frustrating but Obi-Wan had to ignore that feeling and center himself in the Force. 

Preparations to retake Theed were simple when they were back on Naboo. Queen Amidala was revealed to be a decoy, which was surprising, but it seemed to convince the Gungans to join the fight. The Gungans agreed to be a distraction so the Queen and others could sneak into the city. The Gungans, even though being the biggest target on the battlefield, seemed excited about it. 

Meanwhile, everyone headed to the city hopped into one speeder and drove off. They snuck in easily enough. The Queen's guards engaged in the droids so the main group could get in and to the hangars. Obi-Wan was sure to keep near the front with his ‘saber out to deflect incoming blaster bolts. 

With the pilots all sent off, they were beginning to leave when they met their attacker from Tatooine waiting at the exit. It was a black-robed male Zabrak, red and black markings covering his face. His eyes looked strained; sickly gold irises and red veins sticking out especially around his irises. The eyes of a Sith and the similar face of what had been present in Obi-Wan’s latest vision. His mouth immediately went dry as the Zabrak pulled his hood off and pulled out his double-bladed lightsaber. 

The Queen and her guard parted ways with them quickly, stating something about taking the long way. 

Blasters rang behind them but the Jedi were focused on the Sith. They both pulled out their ‘sabers right before the Zabrak began spinning his blade and lunging toward them. Obi-Wan deftly jumped over him to get a different angle. It would be hard to fight directly next to his Master but as the three of them started sparring, it seemed their positioning of front and behind the Sith wasn’t ideal but it was safer to have space to swing a blade. 

The Sith swung his ‘saber with vehemence, controlling the fight. He was backing up quickly toward a wide set of grey doors, keeping the Jedi at bay. Qui-Gon got close enough to land a physical hit but the Zabrak kicked out faster and sent the elder Jedi to the ground. Meanwhile, Obi-Wan kept close, even as the Zabrak continued toward the grey doors, opening them by breaking the panel next to it from part of a downed droid. 

Distantly, Obi-Wan felt this was all familiar so he relied on his vision from a few nights ago. He remembered Qui-Gon losing the battle, so if Obi-Wan could keep Qui-Gon as separated from the battle as much as possible, then maybe he could change how this would all end. Besides, his Master would be somewhat of a hindrance. The Zabrak battled too aggressively too quickly for Qui-Gon’s preferred slower method of dueling. 

Qui-Gon rushed into Obi-Wan’s peripheral as they were moving into the reactor chamber. The Padawan turned his body to accommodate for the change and received a swift kick to the gut for lowering his defenses the slightest. He got sent sprawling back a few feet and decided he deserved that. But nevertheless, he hopped to his feet to rejoin the battle. And just in time, considering the next time Qui-Gon’s ‘saber and one of the blades of the Sith hit, there was a sharp snap and his Master took a quick step back out of their attacker’s reach. 

The Zabrak had himself perched precariously on the edge of a platform next to the start of the catwalks by the time Obi-Wan caught up. Obi-Wan feigned an attack as Qui-Gon actually went for it. The Zabrak showed his teeth as he jumped backward to the catwalks and waited to bait the Jedi further. 

Obi-Wan felt the disruption in the Force between him and his Master. Qui-Gon still was attacking too aggressively, a clear difference from Obi-Wan’s cautious defense. He wanted to force his Master back or _something_ so he could right what was coming up, but any sort of move could be turned against them this deep into their fight (and there was no way that Qui-Gon would be willing to back out of a battle with a Sith). 

The Zabrak had to sense it, too. He suddenly grinned at Obi-Wan and leaped up to the higher catwalks, knowing the Jedi would follow. Master and Padawan joined him at the new elevation. They were in front of and behind him again. Their positioning made the weary feeling in Obi-Wan’s gut grow because the Sith would be tiring them both out at the same time. And to make matters worse, his ‘saber got caught and pushed down far enough so he could get a swift kick dealt to his jaw. 

Obi-Wan found himself hanging onto the lowest elevated catwalk and dangling above darkness. He did his best to pull himself up as quickly as possible. The Sith was beginning to stand after kicking Qui-Gon to give himself some space. Obi-Wan jumped back up to that elevation and ran as fast as he ever ran in his life to catch up to the battling pair. 

They were rapidly approaching the red barriers that he recognized from his vision. The wretched things that held him back from saving his Master, all because he wasn’t quick enough. Pulling on the Force and anything else that Obi-Wan could summon, he _ran_ and ignored any pain or sign of displeasure from his body or the Force around him so that he could catch up. He still arrived late enough so that he wasn’t with his Master, but there was only one empty barrier space between them, much different than the four from his vision. 

Master and Sith deactivated their ‘sabers right away, the Padawan did also but unwillingly. Qui-Gon got on his knees to meditate while the Sith prowled back and forth, eyeing his prey. Obi-Wan couldn’t believe his Master at the moment. Meditating may return _some_ strength but at the cost of losing the adrenaline from battle. Obi-Wan rocked back and forth on his feet, keeping his eyes trained on the Sith and feeling the barriers with the Force for when they would come down. 

Just then, the Sith switched his focus to Obi-Wan and grinned wickedly. Obi-Wan didn’t care that the nasty stare was on him like he was the new piece of meat. He wanted to be the new focus and he made _sure_ to project that through the Force in an attempt to goad the Sith to go after him the most instead. Qui-Gon, frowning, turned to look back at his Padawan. Obi-Wan spared him a glance but he got a lot from his Master’s stare. Disappointment and shame, mostly, along with something like shock. Obi-Wan did his best to ignore all that and continued goading the Sith. 

They all felt when the barriers were beginning to go down. They all activated their lightsabers and began to move as soon as the first barrier was down. Qui-Gon sprang to his feet and began pushing the Sith backward. As soon as the barrier in front of Obi-Wan was down, he summoned all he could again to sprint to catch up. Different from his vision, he beat the final barrier and was fighting alongside his Master once more. 

The Zabrak turned to have Qui-Gon behind him, focusing only on Obi-Wan for the first time. Obi-Wan gritted his teeth at the Sith’s onslaught but he didn’t back down. If anything, his defense was stronger and attacks were bolstered. He matched each one of the Sith’s strikes, backed his natural strength, pure desperation, and whatever the Force was willingly lending him. They were a flurry of blocks and attacks that he was sure a sight to behold. 

Qui-Gon managed to trap the Sith’s blade, like what was done to Obi-Wan earlier. Obi-Wan took the opportunity. He threw his hand out to briefly stun the Zabrak using the Force then gripped his lightsaber tightly and swung out. He felt the heat of a red blade brush his cheek in the middle of his swing so he began to retreat. 

All was silent (except for the hum of the reactor and the ‘sabers) and beginning to calm. Obi-Wan opened his suddenly-closed eyes and saw what he did. The Sith was cut in half, almost at the waist. He dropped his ‘saber into the pit next to them and gripped the front of Obi-Wan’s robes with what little life he had left. White-hot pain spread throughout the Padawan. He saw purple strands of electricity bouncing off both of them. He reached and summoned for that same power and pushed back as hard as he could. The Zabrak made a choked noise and let go, all pieces of his body following his ‘saber down. 

Obi-Wan let out his own noise, a cut-off shout, and fell backward onto the safe walkway. All his energy left him in one exhale, leaving his lungs burning and body sore. Footsteps approached quickly. His head was soon being supported and his Master came into his field of vision and wrapped around him comfortingly in the Force. Only, his Master’s face looked worried and betrayed how his presence felt in the Force. 

“Master, did I do good?” Obi-Wan asked. He realized that his mouth was dry and his skin was damp from their battle. He felt trapped in his too-warm body. 

Qui-Gon cradled his head in his arms and hugged him close gently. But he wasn’t answering. 

“Master?” Obi-Wan raised his hand to touch his cheek. He still had his eye, he could see out of it, but the skin looked awfully red. He wanted to check that his face was still somewhat intact. 

“Don’t touch,” Qui-Gon scolded. He slapped his Padawan’s hand away. The offending limb flopped away limply. “You…” His Master cleared his throat. He pulled away so Obi-Wan could see his face and see him nodding. It didn’t instill his Padawan with much confidence, though, because his Master was never at a loss for words and never seemed so torn up after battles. He was a great negotiator, after all, he _had_ to have words. 

“You did great, Obi-Wan, but are you aware of what you did?” 

The question was quiet and left room for a lot of interpretation. 

“I killed a Sith…” 

Qui-Gon shook his head. He pressed a flat palm to Obi-Wan’s shoulder when he felt his Padawan try to rise. His thumb began to rub soothing circles into the tender muscle. 

“You… I don’t know how else to put it. You reached out to the dark side of the Force.” 

Obi-Wan blinked. No, not possible. He didn’t feel a thing during that battle except for the urgency and excitement. He knew what had to be done and he did it. He accomplished saving his Master _and_ killing the Sith. He knew he didn’t have the steadiest connection with the Force but during the battle, he had such a clear head and his connection to the Force had to be the strongest he had ever felt in his _life_. 

“No, but I saved you! I took down the Sith _and_ saved you!” the Padawan insisted. Qui-Gon looked confused, so he continued. “Yoda always says to trust your visions, especially if they are usually true. I had a vision, it was a bit hard to see, but we were here and we were battling the Sith. Nearing the end of it, he killed you because I got trapped behind the barrier a second time then when I got out, I killed him. But this time, I got through the barrier quick enough and was _sure_ to keep his attention on me so you were at less of a risk.” 

“Obi-Wan,” Qui-Gon breathed, “that doesn’t mean you siphon from the dark side. I know you… did things that the Order wouldn’t approve of, and that you did things you weren’t comfortable with, during your time on Ryloth, but… I took you on as my Padawan because everyone else wasn’t sure if you were redeemable. You weren’t ever supposed to reach that point again after I took you on.” 

Obi-Wan’s vision blurred as tears welled up in his eyes. He was exhausted but he had enough sense left in him to realize the consequences of his actions. Instead of speaking like he intended to, he ended up blubbering nonsense. It was like he was transported back to _that_ age; a teenager, lost and fumbling to find a purpose. 

“Hush,” Qui-Gon cooed. He cradled his Padawan’s head close again. After a few minutes, he pulled back and wiped away any trace of a tear. “I won’t tell the Order. They will Knight you for killing a Sith, however, and I can only hope that you will keep my teachings in mind in the future.” 

“Yes, Master, I promise. I’m sorry for what happened today. But know that I did everything I could to keep you alive.” 

“And look, I’m alive.” His Master moved away carefully, making sure not to drop Obi-Wan’s head on the floor. In one swift motion, he threw Obi-Wan over his shoulder, making sure to grab their lightsabers, then headed out the way they came. 

Obi-Wan finally let his exhaustion claim him. The Zabrak had been their only threat and his Master was plenty capable of defeating some droids without his assistance. He truly did all he could to make sure he and his Master survived that battle, and it mostly worked out. He just hoped that making a vision not come true wouldn’t have disastrous effects. 

Obi-Wan didn’t wake again until later that evening. He woke up under the covers of, and in, an actual bed. All of his attire was removed except for his underwear. It was nice but he fought against the comfort and forced himself to sit up. The sun was setting. Hopefully it was still the same day. He was starving and thirsty and quizzical about what happened and what else will be done. 

After dressing quickly but stiffly, Obi-Wan exited the guest room that he and Qui-Gon shared. He was in the hall so quickly, his head was pounding and the side of his face was throbbing. He saw the white bacta patches but still, tentatively, he raised his hand to the left side of his face and felt them. From where the Sith’s blade grazed him. He was _very_ lucky it didn’t take his eye. 

Wandering down the halls, his feet (and partially his stomach) took him to the dining hall. That was where the Queen, her handmaidens (the real Queen included), Captain Panaka, Jar Jar, Boss Nass, Anakin, Qui-Gon, and Yoda were all seated with plates in front of them. R2-D2 was also present but sitting beside Anakin on the floor. Seeing Yoda present made Obi-Wan stand straighter and piece himself together more but Qui-Gon saw him first and was beckoning him warmly. 

“Obi-Wan! Glad to see you’re awake. I didn’t want to wake you, you deserved your rest after you defeated the Sith,” Qui-Gon called. 

Obi-Wan entered the room and took the offered seat next to Qui-Gon, where he thankfully didn’t have to worry about anyone sitting on his other side. He still felt bone-tired but he felt like he could relax more. Soon a plate was brought out to him, containing some sort of native fish and some greens on the side. He said a quiet thanks and ate neatly, despite his hunger. 

“There will be a parade tomorrow, celebrating the cooperation with the Gungans and all of our victories. That includes your victory in the reactor. Had that Zabrak not been slain, I fear to imagine what he would’ve done to see that the Trade Federation got their treaty signed,” the real Queen said. She held up her glass in a toast, everyone joining her. Obi-Wan just then took notice that she was sitting next to Anakin and the decoy Queen, not with the other handmaidens. Strange but not entirely out of the blue, considering Padmé took on some protective instincts with him when they were on the ship. 

“Oh, I don’t think that’d be necessary,” Obi-Wan said quietly compared to everyone else’s volume. It felt like his head was going to split open but he didn’t need to ruin everyone else’s night by having them quiet down. “We were just doing our part…” 

“Honored, you shall be,” Yoda said. He participated in the toast, too, and was giving Obi-Wan a look. 

Obi-Wan bowed his head. “M-my apologies, Grand Master.” 

Dinner carried on comfortably. Obi-Wan, as much as he wanted to, didn’t attempt to use the Force to soothe his headache. He powered through it and scarfed down his meal with several glasses of water. Another plate with fish and greens was set down in front of him, that he ate in record time, too. The food filled his stomach and it tasted great. Though his temporary heaven was shattered when Yoda got up from the table and requested him to follow. 

They walked through the halls of the palace until they reached a disconnected mini-temple hanging over the water. It was dark, only lit by the moon or, optionally, the unlit torch at the entrance. The water was calm below but even so, the waves could be heard from where they stood. It would be a serene experience, if Obi-Wan didn’t feel like he was in trouble. It didn’t help that Yoda hadn’t said a word since he requested for Obi-Wan to follow. 

“Proud of you, we are. Of how you saved him from the Sith, Qui-Gon told. Have no doubts. A Knight you will become,” Yoda revealed. He was standing with his back to Obi-Wan. “Kneel.” 

Obi-Wan almost stumbled over himself just trying to kneel. But he did so, and he would say gracefully. He rested an arm on the knee on the same side, other arm hanging simply, and bowed his head. 

Yoda approached quietly. He activated his lightsaber. Obi-Wan’s second instinct was to flinch away, his first was to keep still like he knew he should—so he did. The Grand Master, with his green ‘saber, severed Obi-Wan’s Padawan braid with precision. He motioned the blade near each of the Padawan’s shoulders and said, “By the right of the Council, by the will of the Force, Obi-Wan Kenobi, you may rise.” 

Obi-Wan stood smoothly, smiling gently at the Grand Master. His heart swelled with happiness. 

“Return to celebrate, you should. Stay here, I will,” Yoda instructed as he turned away. 

“Yes, Grand Master, thank you,” Obi-Wan said. He bowed and picked up his discarded braid, stowing it in a pocket before turning around and heading back to the dining hall. 

Everyone was there but it had quieted down some. Anakin was bouncing in his seat excitedly and once his eyes landed on Obi-Wan, he threw his hands up and cried, “Yipee!” 

Qui-Gon’s attention was also drawn to him after that. He smiled warmly until Obi-Wan was close enough to grab and crush in a tight hug. “Congratulations. You don’t even have to go through the Trials. You are a Knight now, Obi-Wan Kenobi.” 

It was a few days after the celebration on Naboo. The parade was in the morning, celebrating the unity between the Queen and Gungans. Then a city-wide celebration happened throughout the rest of the day. Qui-Gon officially took on Anakin as his Padawan. The Jedi left in the night to head back to Coruscant. 

The journey home left Obi-Wan time to think, and it frankly wasn’t good. As (the new) usual, he maintained a safe but friendly distance from Anakin, and each night he meditated with Qui-Gon (Anakin wasn’t permitted to join them because, after the first time he joined them, Obi-Wan’s connection to the Force was significantly unstable). Their meditations left him calm only for a bit—just usually through the rest of the day—but then he would go to bed and wake as a mess in the next cycle. Sometimes his hands trembled and he jumped at any little movement, like a war-starved veteran. One thing he was sure of, the eyes of the Sith haunted him in his sleep. 

Once they landed at the Jedi Temple on Coruscant, Qui-Gon went with Anakin to get a check-up and to get anything he may need as a Padawan. Obi-Wan went to his and Qui-Gon’s room to pack his things and decide what he wanted to do. 

As a Knight, he had to take on new duties and would most likely get assigned somewhere off-world. He had to claim his own room before leaving, but that wouldn’t stop him from getting sent out to a far location. If he didn’t come up with a definite decision soon, then the Masters would decide most things for him, and then would send him on a not-so-pleasant political job—considering his training. There was a chance he could choose or accept a Padawan but he knew he wasn’t ready for one. There were several other Knights who actually deserved a Padawan instead of him. 

Three days went by without a decision. Qui-Gon refused to force Obi-Wan to choose a new room, saying that he would only support his former Padawan and offer shelter so he didn’t have to commit to something he might not be ready for. However, three days was too long for the Council. They requested Obi-Wan to come the next day and he, in turn, requested for Qui-Gon to be there with him. His former Master, ever so supportive, agreed. 

So come the next day, Obi-Wan found himself standing in the Council chamber, the center of attention with Qui-Gon standing near the door. 

“So, Obi-Wan, have you decided what duties you will take on as a Knight?” Mace asked. He had his elbows resting on his armrests, hands steepled in front of his face. He separated his hands in a little waving motion as he continued, “I’ll admit, we were a bit surprised when we had to summon you. You are always punctual, something you definitely didn’t pick up from Qui-Gon.” 

Recognizing the jab, Qui-Gon chuckled shortly. 

Obi-Wan looked down, worrying his lip in thought. Summoning the courage and latching onto the presence of his former Master in the Force for comfort, he lifted his head. 

“I no longer wish to be a Jedi, and request permission to part ways with the Order.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Some new spots in Obi-Wan's history that will eventually be explained. Trying to keep stuff as close to legends/canon as possible while adding my own twist.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> fml. I SWEAR this chapter had no right returning to the editing block so much
> 
> Also! I do read your comments. Sometimes I just don’t know how to respond to them I do appreciate them though! c:

It was dead silent in the chamber. Obi-Wan maintained his still posture and kept all emotions locked down so they wouldn’t bleed into the Force. Emotions that he could feel in the Force seemed primarily from Qui-Gon and he projected pure shock. It, at least, showed that Qui-Gon’s emotions were genuine. This way, the Masters would all know Obi-Wan thought of this on his own. 

Yoda broke the silence by clearing his throat. “Test your midi-chlorian count, may we?” 

Obi-Wan refused to react outwardly. Instead, he nodded and took a step forward. It was Mace who took the little tester out and waited for the Knight to approach. The Knight pressed his thumb to the sharp tip, waiting for the device to check his blood, then pulled back after it beeped to stand at the center of the room once more. 

Mace made a noise as he read. He turned to show the screen to Yoda. The device made its way around the room to the Masters on the Council until it was back to Mace. Yet no one was talking. Obi-Wan had a feeling what the situation was but he definitely didn’t want to acknowledge it. 

Finally, Mace straightened in his seat, looking up at the Knight. “It appears that your midi-chlorian count has increased. Again.” 

“A great mystery, it is,” Yoda said thoughtfully. 

“It may be his choice to leave, but is it a good idea?” Ki-Adi-Mundi debated. All eyes went to him, definitely one angry pair. 

“You’ve never denied another Jedi of their leave,” Qui-Gon objected. 

“You have not been acknowledged, Jinn. You were let in only so you could support Obi-Wan. If you act out once more, you will be asked to leave,” Mace Windu warned heatedly. He adjusted himself in his seat, visibly becoming less stiff, and turned his attention back to Obi-Wan. “We aren’t denying your leave. It would be unlawful to hold you back. However, this isn’t us approving you _to_ leave. Never have we witnessed someone’s midi-chlorian count change after the first recording. We have to consider that letting you leave could potentially create a danger that will have to be dealt with in the future. I hope you understand that you are the danger I am referring to?” 

Obi-Wan bowed his head solemnly. “I do, Master.” 

“I request time to discuss this,” Plo Koon murmured from his seat. “As Windu said, this is not denial but it is a great matter to have plans for. A Jedi’s midi-chlorian count to change after two separate testings after the _original_ test might as well be a warning. And there are voices here that could turn this discussion… _messy_ …”

Qui-Gon inhaled as if he was going to talk but Windu glared his way and the room was once again silent. 

“Take time, we should,” Yoda finally spoke again. He nodded at his own words. “Not denied, your leave is. But discuss this, we must.” 

Obi-Wan dipped his head respectively. “I understand, Grand Master. Thank you for your time.” 

Qui-Gon and Obi-Wan left together. They were quiet until they got into the elevator to return to Qui-Gon’s room. 

The Force around them was tense. Obi-Wan didn’t want to pry and it turned out he didn’t have to. Qui-Gon’s feelings were right there to taste. He was shocked, upset, a bit displeased, and even a bit sad, but underneath there was understanding. That was the good part. He understood that Obi-Wan wanted to—or in Obi-Wan’s case, _had to_ —go, so maybe that meant he wouldn’t try to hold the Knight back. 

It would Obi-Wan a great deal calmer if Qui-Gon would give him his full support. Their relationship was always rocky towards the beginning, there was no reason for it to revert to that. 

“I never thought you’d want to leave, but after Naboo, I understand. What surprises me is that you didn’t tell me before you told the Council.” 

It wasn’t Obi-Wan’s intention to spring his decision on his former Master, he simply decided that what he chose shouldn’t be known until he spoke with the Council. He didn’t want Anakin to hear Obi-Wan discussing his departure aloud after the boy expressed excitement in joining. Plus, Obi-Wan had to think it out himself—maybe that was why the recent work they did with meditations didn’t last until morning, because he was too busy using his sanity to decide his future. Hopefully Qui-Gon’s shock would help him because it proved that Qui-Gon didn’t have any help in the matter. 

“I’m sorry… I just had to figure it out myself,” Obi-Wan admitted. “And… I came to the conclusion it’s safer for everyone if I leave.” 

The Knight was afraid to look at his former Master yet he did. He was greeted with a fatherly smile followed by a side-hug. “I’m glad you know to think for yourself. You’d be a great Master on the Council in the future if you’d stay, but…” He waved his hand in the air. “I’ll support you either way. Have you thought about where you’ll go yet?” 

“No.” Obi-Wan didn’t think that far because he wasn’t sure how far he’d get after announcing his decision. 

Qui-Gon flashed another smile, but this time it looked more like a smirk. A smirk that spelled trouble. “Let me get in touch with a contact who may help you out.” 

Qui-Gon didn’t say another word about his contact. Obi-Wan didn’t know if that was supposed to be a good or bad thing. His first instinct was to take it as a bad thing. But the following morning, when Anakin was in class, Qui-Gon took Obi-Wan shopping so he didn’t get the time to make a fuss. 

They went to the area where most Jedi shopped at because the products there were actually good, sturdy, and decently priced (and some shops offered a discount to Jedi, so, bonus there). The places they stopped by were definitely not expecting actual Jedi to show up. After all, they sold general clothing items, stuff that Jedi did not normally wear. However, the shops offered Jedi discounts, so should they have been surprised when actual Jedi showed up (maybe not, because most Jedi are known for having little credit to their names)? 

The first stop was to get footwear. Obi-Wan didn’t know what to look for. He had never gone undercover so he didn’t have the experience of blending in with common folk as a Jedi. He’ll have to learn to give up wearing loose-fitting robes and start wearing more form-fitting things. He was unsure of what he needed to look for exactly but Qui-Gon told him before they left his quarters to keep a lookout for comfortable clothes that offered mobility, protection, and comfort. A very hard to find combo, Obi-Wan knew. 

Qui-Gon picked out a pair of neutral-looking black boots. Obi-Wan put them on without arguing because footwear would be the last thing he knew about while shopping. They were comfortable and sturdy, offering some protection for his toes and support for his ankles. They weren’t too thick or too thin. He wasn’t sure how mobile they would be but Qui-Gon was positive they would loosen up with some time. 

Their next stop was a large clothing store. Obi-Wan tried on pants, mostly, and became frazzled. They were like utility pants, front and back pockets with a pocket a bit lower on the outside of each thigh, but they weren’t as thick and were almost too tight. Yet Qui-Gon said those were the type of pants Obi-Wan should wear. Probably only one more layer could fit under them, which wasn’t ideal if he had to go somewhere cold. 

At the same shop, they purchased some thin long-sleeve shirts, thermals, and other undergarments Obi-Wan would need on his travels. 

The final stop was a small shop with older attire that was almost completely useless in terms of style and anything beneficial for protection or mobility. Yet Qui-Gon walked to the very back, between racks of clothing, confidently. An older Zabrak woman was behind the counter, looking mildly pleased as Qui-Gon spoke. Her eyes, a tan-grey color almost matching her skin, were studying Obi-Wan but she was clearly paying attention to Qui-Gon and thinking at the same time. 

Obi-Wan didn’t pay her much mind. He walked around the dark store the Zabrak blended in well with. Many of the old clothes were leather and as dark as the store. They hung on outdated racks… Obi-Wan shook his head and approached the counter. He didn’t understand why they were _here_ of all places but it wasn’t really his place to say. 

The Zabrak woman came around the counter, tape measure in hand, and took several measurements of different areas of Obi-Wan’s torso swiftly. So swiftly that, when Obi-Wan understood what was happening, she was already finishing her circle around him and returning to her spot behind the counter. 

Her fingers flew across a datapad. “Need material and other things, if you will.” 

Qui-Gon nodded. Turning, he addressed Obi-Wan. “Head next door and start looking for repair kits and other materials you think you may need. Definitely grab some medkits.” 

Obi-Wan nodded and did as he was told by heading next door to a utility store. He wandered the aisles until he came across things he’d need. Medkits were the first things he found. They all had the same bacta patches and tubes, field-surgery tools, gauze, regular bandages, stitching supplies, and medical tape. He located a nice repair kit after, consisting of tools perfect for continuous use from little gadgets all the way up to a freighter. The versatility of the tools sounded a bit suspicious but they _did_ look good, matched up with the price, and came with a warranty. 

Qui-Gon joined him when he was looking at survival kits. He was favoring the one with a blanket, fire-starter, water flask, and a knife with a serrated bit on top. He didn’t really know if he needed something like it, but it was an interesting kit. 

“Should I be worried about why you stayed back?” Obi-Wan murmured distractedly. 

“No,” was all Qui-Gon said as he took the kit away from Obi-Wan to look at himself. “Just have to wait a day or so for it to be done. And I don’t think you’ll need this. Otherwise, that stuff looks fine. We just need to get you a blaster.” 

“A blaster?” Obi-Wan echoed. He shook his head. “I’ve never used one before. What about armor?” 

“We can get you a basic set, if that’s what you want. You won’t be able to use your lightsaber out there, most likely. My contact,” Qui-Gon lowered his voice, “hasn’t said much but she is known for… oh, how to put it, running with the more dangerous folk. When we get back to my quarters, we’ll go over what your story will be. I informed her of you and once we come up with a story, I’ll send that over so she also knows.” 

Obi-Wan’s heart picked up speed a bit. “Is she trustworthy?” 

“Oh, yeah. In simple terms, she’s like an information broker but also not, very exclusive. We met before you were my Padawan and ever since, we’ve sort of traded favors for favors. She said she’ll owe me big time for just sending you her way.” Qu-Gon looked too relaxed to have basically admitted to selling Obi-Wan out. 

“So, what, if I don’t like working for her, I can’t leave?” Getting passed from the Jedi to an information broker, to be used as a boogeyman? Doing things against his moral code because he’s obligated to? 

His former Master blinked. He looked at the younger man and realized what was going through his head. “No, no. Sorry for the confusion. Her friend, or she calls her best customer, is in need of a partner. Bounty hunting business. They need to train you first, but once that is over, they’ll let you decide what you want to do. If you don’t like it there, you can leave, but she will offer you the same stuff as her friend.” 

“What does she get out of it?” 

“Work with an ex-Jedi. I’m sure she’d be able to offer you jobs her friend can’t quite complete. Listen, we can talk more about it later.” 

Qui-Gon took the things Obi-Wan grabbed to purchase then they went to get some armor and a blaster for Obi-Wan. They found armor similar to what the Jedi wore into war and what freshly-appointed Padawans would wear on missions that were expected to turn violent. It offered sufficient protection and plenty of mobility, and became mostly for looks when pitted against anything stronger than a blaster rifle. They also got a simple pistol blaster for Obi-Wan then returned to Qui-Gon’s quarters. 

Anakin was back and reading a book at the small kitchen table. He looked up excitedly when the other two entered. He stood and approached when he noticed the new items the older two were carrying. 

“You guys went shopping when I had to go to classes? Did you get anything for me?” He sounded so innocent when he spoke. It made Obi-Wan’s gut clench, knowing the Padawan had hoped to fight by his side one day. He especially wanted to duel Obi-Wan after hearing the Knight took down their attacker from Tatooine. 

“Um… Anakin,” Qui-Gon started. He handed everything off to Obi-Wan, who put it down by his temporary cot and other things. “Obi-Wan has decided he wants to leave the Order. We went shopping today to get him supplies he’d need to start down his new path.” 

Anakin tipped his head to the side, frowning. He looked over at Obi-Wan. “You’re leaving? Why?” 

Qui-Gon made a noise like he was going to explain, but Obi-Wan spoke first, “I realize my path no longer lies with the Jedi.” 

“Will I ever get to see you again?” 

Obi-Wan didn’t know, truthfully. He didn’t know where he was going, what he would be doing, and who he would be associating with. All of those factors could influence what he does differently. What he did know was that he couldn’t continue with life as a Jedi. If Qui-Gon said he reached out to the dark side during his battle with the Sith, then that wouldn't be the first time he did that. The first time, he was Master-less and he did it for survival. Only, no one else knew of the limits he was pushed to, they could only assume and read the reports of the destruction he had caused. 

Obi-Wan knelt and took Anakin’s small hands in his own. It was always Qui-Gon’s last-ditch effort to comfort Obi-Wan when he was unable to control his emotions (even though he thought himself too old for it). “I truly do not know. We each have to follow our own paths, and I do not know where mine will lead me. I can only hope that you will stay on this path and hope that we might see each other again in the future.” 

“I _better_ get to see you again. I wanna beat you with my ‘saber when I build it!” Obi-Wan internally sagged with relief. He was afraid Anakin wouldn’t take the news well but it seemed he would be fine. 

“I’ll hold you to it.” 

Obi-Wan didn’t get the chance to speak with Qui-Gon privately until the next morning when Anakin had gone to classes again. They sat at the kitchen table with a datapad in front of each of them. 

“Your swordsmanship won’t be able to be ignored,” Qui-Gon started. “I propose you come from Zeffo. It’s an Outer Rim Territory so it’s less known.” He went on to explain about living in a closed-off society where swords are the only weapons because they’re based on the Jedi Order. They lived as a reclusive society, rarely letting in outsiders, sending people out for missions and sometimes never intending to let that person back in. Obi-Wan’s story will be that he was sent out one too many times so they retired him and their contact heard about him so she reached out to collect him. 

“And what do I say if they bring up my Core accent?” Obi-Wan asked with raised eyebrows. 

Qui-Gon didn’t look up from typing. “You lived in a secluded, _sophisticated_ society. Besides, the warriors there could all talk with a Core accent for all anyone else will know.” 

They continued working on his story, coming up with as many feasible defenses as possible if anyone got suspicious of Obi-Wan. Until they got to the final bit. 

“You’ll need a new name.” It went unspoken that anyone would be able to research the name Obi-Wan Kenobi and would be presented with the most recent picture of him as a Padawan (from Padawan-picture day). They would then know he had been a Jedi, and plenty of people in the galaxy hate Jedi. 

Obi-Wan thought for a moment. Or did he really think? The words came automatically. “Dral Khor.” 

Jinn made a face. “You should go get lunch. Think on that name, too.” 

“What, you don’t like it?” Obi-Wan thought it sounded cool and anonymous enough. 

“I think you thought of it on the spot.” 

“No, I’ve had _time_ to think—!” 

“Just think some more, why don’t you? And go get lunch.” 

Lunch was about an hour before so the nearest refectory wasn’t busy. That also meant most of the best food options were already chosen. Obi-Wan didn’t really care, he’d eat basically anything. He selected one of the fish and rice options, grabbed a glass of water, and went to sit at an empty smaller table near the edge of the room. 

Obi-Wan couldn’t believe Qui-Gon’s seemingly immediate refusal of his new fake name. He personally liked Dral Khor. It was strong and ominous, what was so bad about it? Maybe he wouldn’t go by Dral, Khor sounded better to be called in public… 

“Kenobi!” 

Obi-Wan winced. He was seated at his table, plate in front of him, not acting ominous at all. Best not to look around. He knew who was going to approach. Probably to make fun of his rattail… He was _definitely_ cutting it off before he left. 

“Hey, Captain, got some news for me?” 

A (familiar) female royal-blue colored Twi’lek dropped herself heavily into the seat beside him. Her bright, slate-green eyes shone at him playfully. She hadn’t changed a bit. The almost-white freckles that covered her cheeks, dusted her shoulders, and danced all the way down her arms, were the same as the last day they saw each other. 

“Astra, to what do I owe the pleasure?” Obi-Wan sighed. He made sure to sound as annoyed as possible but it wouldn’t last long. 

“News, spill it. You can talk quietly, word’s not out to everyone yet, but I don’t know how long that will last.” 

“You… you need to be clearer. I just became a Knight, are you talking about that?” 

Astra stopped smiling slowly. She tipped her head and looked a bit worried now. She bit her lip and gazed around the room. Then, smoothly, she got a bit closer and put a comforting hand on his shoulder. Her voice was lower when she spoke again, “My Master said you don’t want to be in the Order anymore. Like, a few days after you were Knighted, when you were supposed to be reporting your decisions for your future, you requested to _leave_. And not only that, this is the part others don’t know but, because Plo is on the Council, he said your midi-chlorian count rose. Again.” 

Astra was one of the members outside of Obi-Wan’s crèche that he got along with. They had always been close since a few years before they each turned thirteen. They spent a good amount of time together like they were of the same crèche, then Obi-Wan disappeared for a year. A year that changed him but not her (except for maybe becoming a bit more anxious than she previously had). After their reunion, she comforted a suddenly-quiet Obi-Wan until he improved and they had to start going their separate ways for Padawan duties. So, because she was always around for him, she had been around to hear the news of his changing midi-chlorian count. 

Obi-Wan swallowed and shifted in his seat. The food on his plate didn’t smell too appetizing anymore. Astra may tease that she would tell others but she was smart and knew that if the information was sensitive, she wouldn’t actually share it. His midi-chlorian count secret was relatively safe, but other Jedi knew that he was planning to leave. Some Jedi enjoyed gossiping enough to spin off an entire new story. And since Obi-Wan was widely known to have proven to initially be a promising Padawan, some interesting stories could pop up as to why he has decided to leave. 

“And…?” 

Astra gave a wild shrug. “Are you all right? Why are you leaving? Are you willing to tell me _anything_ at all?” She slowed down, taking a deep breath in. “I’m sorry, I don’t want to freak you out. I’m just worried.” 

Obi-Wan mixed the food on his tray with his utensil to give himself something to do with his hands. Astra was always understanding but she wasn’t told of everything Obi-Wan went through during his year absent from training. And at the moment, she didn’t know what Obi-Wan did to keep himself and Qui-Gon alive on Naboo. Astra has and always will be strong-willed. She kept to her morals and opinions. She, to simply put, did her best to stick to codes. She would disapprove of Obi-Wan’s actions. 

“Astra, you know when I… returned… and I had problems controlling my connection to the Force?” He waited for her to nod. “I’ve continuously struggled with that, and I probably will for the rest of my life. But on Naboo, Qui-Gon and I killed a Sith. I had a vision before this, where Qui-Gon died.” Qui-Gon paused. He shook his head and grabbed his drink to soothe his parched mouth. He needed to get on with it. “During our battle, I reached out and took whatever from the Force it would offer. Qui-Gon said I reached out to the dark side. That wouldn’t be the first time I’ve done it.” 

Astra stared at him. Her face was blank, her eyes showed no secret emotions. She almost looked pissed, but her eyebrows gave her real feelings away. They matched the look of worry. 

“So the Council doesn’t know about it.” It was her turn to sigh, but she pinched the bridge of her nose while she did it. “Cap, running away from them won’t stop you from doing it again. You know that!” Her hands shot out to grab Obi-Wan’s arms before he could properly turn away. “You’re the smartest guy our age, I know you know this! What are you thinking you’ll accomplish by running?” 

“I am _not_ running,” the Knight defended himself, or tried to. So what if he _was_ running away? It was his decision. 

“Yes you are and _you know it_!” 

Obi-Wan turned away roughly and started shoveling his food into his mouth. Beginning to go cold… he shouldn’t have let Astra pester him about this. He needed to eat then head back to pack things so he could leave. The longer he was at the Temple, the harder it would be to leave. 

Astra sighed, sounding too tired to be herself. “Ok, I’m not saying if running is good or bad—at least in this instance—I’m just worried that you’ll start using running as a way to start escaping your problems. And I know you’re smart enough to not do that but you’re kinda known to not be good with emotions, and when you _are_ emotional then you tend to get… _unpredictable_.” 

“That is _not_ true,” Obi-Wan scoffed. 

“But that’s what you’re doing! Instead of confronting your misuse of the Force, you’re leaving the Order completely. And with your midi-chlorian count issue, you’re a potentially beneficial anomaly. If you’d stay and consult with a trustworthy Master, let’s say Yoda, maybe you could reconnect with the Force and finally find some _peace_ for yourself!” 

“‘ _Potentially beneficial_ ’?”

“I’m not denying your potential to be a threat but I’m also not denying your potential to be beneficial. Is _that_ the thing you’re going to focus on?” 

Obi-Wan realized he was beginning to rise to a challenge, but not the good type where the hero comes out on top (in reference to the books younglings read). He collected his emotions, briefly taking note of the present negativity, then forced it all down like someone stamps down a campfire. 

“I understand leaving is a bit uncalled for, and definitely not what the Council wants, but I believe it’s what the Force wants of me,” Obi-Wan finalized. “If I am desperately needed, or if the Force dictates it, then I will return.” 

Astra looked sad. “Oh, Obi-Wan.” She shook her head and buried her face in her hands. “You’re putting a lot of trust in something that you yourself know you can’t always rely on in turn.” She rubbed her eyes before removing her hands. “But I support you. I won’t try to stop you because this is what you want. I only hope you’ll take care of yourself and contact me from time to time.” 

“Thank you,” Obi-Wan murmured and worked on finishing his food. 

Astra sat next to him the entire time, chatting about anything that seemed to be on her mind. She told of how well Plo Koon has been teaching her, how she would also be a Knight soon; though, she would have to go through the Trials. She and Plo recently returned from doing some political work on Alderaan. A beautiful planet, according to her, plenty of life and changes of scenery. If she had to choose a place to settle down, she’d choose there. 

Obi-Wan finished eating. Calmed down, he promised he’d find a way to contact Astra (because he couldn’t take his Jedi comlink with him). She was fine with that response so she gave him a hug and went on her way. She looked a little teary, if Obi-Wan had anything to say. Not that it would be a surprise, seeing as her crèche wasn’t as close as Obi-Wan’s own so she thought of him as a true brother. 

Qui-Gon had sent a message while he was eating. Whatever he ordered from the Zabrak woman was ready so Obi-Wan had to go pick that and a new comlink up. Not like he had anything better to do. 

The shopping district was as busy as it always was. The shops that offered special Jedi discounts were a little less busy but they didn’t refuse service to non-Jedi. The Zabrak’s shop he had to go to wasn’t busy at all. When he walked into the dark shop, through the racks of old clothing items, to stand at the counter, he realized he and the Zabrak woman were the only ones there. 

“Order for Jinn,” she rumbled as she set a neatly-wrapped parcel on the counter. “Enjoy, young one.” Then she disappeared to the back room without waiting for Obi-Wan to reply. 

He didn’t waste any time. The communicator Qui-Gon ordered was all the way across the district. It would take, at the least, an hour to get it and leave the district, not including how long it would take to return to Qui-Gon’s quarters. That was why he was speed-walking through the district. Most people stayed out of his way. The image of a stressing Jedi had that kind of wanted repulsion. 

The communicator was better than the Jedi’s standard ones. It had better range and audio quality. The Knight kept up his quick pace on his return while messing with the device. He started plugging in contacts he knew, like Qui-Gon and Astra.

When Obi-Wan was almost to Qui-Gon’s room, he was greeted with the sight of Dooku exiting into the hallway. Obi-Wan stopped with plenty of space between them and bowed respectively, quickly. “Count Dooku.” 

Dooku was appraising him silently. Not in a way that Obi-Wan has previously experienced with others where he was fearing for his life. Qui-Gon assured him that he’d never experience that again (Obi-Wan was naïve at that time but now he was able to look back at that and be thankful for his Master trying to quell his fears). No, Dooku’s gaze was respectful and inquisitive. 

“Grand-Padawan,” was all he said before stalking off, dark cloak billowing behind him. It was strange that he was in the Temple. He left the Order and now lived on Serenno. He didn’t really have business with the Order unless it was with the Council. And not to mention that would be the first time they’ve ever interacted. 

Obi-Wan stared after him until he was out of sight before entering Qui-Gon’s quarters. 

“Master, why was Dooku here?” His nerves were becoming frayed, so he slipped back into familiar habits. 

Qui-Gon was sitting at the little kitchen table with a cup of tea in front of him. It looked like Obi-Wan’s entrance derailed his thoughts. 

“I am no longer your Master, _Knight_ ,” Qui-Gon huffed. 

Obi-Wan shook his head. Qui-Gon wasn’t always a fan of formalities. “Sorry.” He set the parcel and comlink down with his things before sitting across from his former Master. 

Qui-Gon sighed, shook his head, and tapped a pointless melody on the table. His tapping was the only sound in the room. And as he went on, Obi-Wan felt himself beginning to grow more anxious. 

“He came to tell me that he thinks I shouldn’t let you go. And while I _know_ that if you were to stay, you would become a Master, I told him that you are your own Jedi, and I cannot stop you from following your true path.” 

Obi-Wan’s heart spiked at that. Dooku has never shown interest in him in the past so today’s visit was abrupt. He came to tell his former Padawan that his Grand-Padawan shouldn’t leave. Then to add to that, he addressed his Grand-Padawan as such then immediately left! But why would Obi-Wan ever expect his departure to be smooth with everything that has already happened to him? 

“Obi-Wan, get some tea.” 

He obeyed and stood. The tea on the stove was warm and smelled comforting. He began drinking it as soon as he poured it in a cup then refilled it before he sat down across from his former Master. 

“The Council can’t _exactly_ stop you from leaving. If someone wishes to leave because they feel that their future isn’t with the Order, then they are allowed to leave,” Qui-Gon said gently, yet without much emotion. “You are an oddity that they wish to keep track of. Never has a Jedi’s midi-chlorian count changed after they were tested. I support your decision and will lend a hand if needed anytime in the future. But you _must_ understand that it will be hard for several people to see you leave. My old Master, he wants to see you stay because he doesn’t want you to get lost in the galaxy. _I_ know that whatever you’re doing in the future, you’ll be doing the right thing.” 

“Yet if the Council even _thinks_ I’m a threat, they will come after me. Qui-Gon, I have to drop off any radar possible. I’m at risk of getting hunted down if I do _anything_ the Council doesn’t like,” Obi-Wan complained. 

The older man shrugged. “My contact already has plans set up for you. You’ll eventually be on _a_ radar, but one that Jedi don’t ever usually use. And even if they do find you on this radar, they can’t use it against you because it’s neutral.” 

“That doesn’t make me feel as good as I wish it did.” 

Qui-Gon smiled tenderly. “Unfortunately.” 

Anakin returned not longer than an hour later. He seemed relieved to be in the older men’s presence until he looked over at Obi-Wan’s gathered things. He didn’t have much to bring with him except for the clothes he and Qui-Gon got the other day. According to Qui-Gon’s contact, that’s all he needed. There were hygiene products, sleeping clothes, and anything else already available for Obi-Wan when he arrived. 

Before the night ended, they ate together at the little kitchen table. Obi-Wan, before bed, cut off his rattail and made sure his haircut looked as normal as possible. He did his last meditation with Qui-Gon then went to bed. 

Qui-Gon rented a neutral transport ship, an astromech droid included so the ship could return itself. It was large enough to be comfortable for a one-way trip. 

Obi-Wan was dressed in his new attire, backpack on his back filled with his other new clothes. His blaster was strapped to his thigh, communicator in his front pocket, lightsabers each in a pocket of his vest (the item that had been in the parcel), and his Padawan braid in his hand. 

“This is for you, Qui-Gon,” he murmured and held it out. 

His former Master stepped away from comforting a tired-eyed Anakin. He accepted the braid, barely. “No, you can’t give me this.” 

“It’s tradition, and it wouldn’t do me any good. Don’t you want something to remember me by? Besides, I’m not supposed to be able to be traced back to the Order.” 

Qui-Gon tightened his hand around the ginger hair. He nodded and looked up from it to the younger man. Fondness flooded through their bond. “Thank you for not throwing it away like I thought you actually did. Now, you have your’s and Kencha’s lightsabers?” Obi-Wan motioned to his chest, where each weapon had its own pocket in his dark leather vest. “And your sword?” Obi-Wan turned so the white falchion—supposedly from Zeffo—fastened to his backpack could be seen. 

“So… I’m all set.” Qui-Gon had given him their contact’s com code, so Obi-Wan contacted her the previous night and will do so a few more times on his journey to his new location. 

“Obi?” Anakin said quietly. He was rubbing his eyes as he approached. Obi-Wan crouched to be at eye-level with him. “ _Will_ I get to see you again?” 

Obi-Wan didn’t know and he wasn’t sure if he wanted to know. He didn’t know what he’d be doing and seeing Anakin could potentially reveal him to be a Jedi, and he knew Anakin was struggling without his mother and under the scrutiny of the Council. But he couldn’t lie to the boy because he didn’t feel right doing so. 

“Ani, I _truly_ do not know, as I’ve told you before. You must focus on your future and strive to be the best Jedi you can be. If we happen to meet again in the future, then we’ll meet,” Obi-Wan said as bluntly and gently as possible. 

Anakin puckered his lips and reached forward to wrap his arms around Obi-Wan’s neck. Obi-Wan returned the hug carefully. He felt his palms beginning to sweat. He needed to leave before someone started crying. 

Pulling away, Obi-Wan smiled gingerly at Anakin before standing to receive a hug from Qui-Gon. Still, Obi-Wan was the first to pull away and smile. 

“Are you sure you want to go? There might not be a place for you if you would decide to return…” Qui-Gon didn’t hide the doubt he radiated after Dooku’s visit the night prior. Obi-Wan was thankful his Master didn’t voice any new thoughts until now, when it was too late. 

“Maybe one day I will see you both again,” Obi-Wan said. “But for now, this is a goodbye.” He bowed to Master and Padawan before he turned on a heel to board his ship.

* * *

It took nearly a week to arrive at Outland Transit Station. Obi-Wan was too nervous to sleep the first few days of his journey. Instead he meditated to get some energy back until he finally succumbed to sleep on the third cycle of hyperspace during meditation. Otherwise, his activities included stretching, taking his blaster apart and putting it back together, practicing with his blaster, keeping in shape by exercising, and keeping up his lightsaber forms. Usually he practiced until he was shaking or straining to stand, depending on which weapon he was training with. 

The most important bit of his journey was to keep himself busy so he didn’t have to think about his decision to leave. It was too late to return, he couldn’t think about any _what-ifs_. 

Before his arrival, he received specific coordinates to dock. It was strange but as he was docking, he realized he was given coordinates to dock at a private hangar. There was one only other ship when he arrived. Who knew how long it had been sitting there, considering several cables were hooked up to it in multiple places. 

Once he was completely docked, he gathered everything to put in his bag, walked down the gangway, and met a pink Toydarian. 

“Dral Khor? The name’s Rozatta, but call me Roz,” the Toydarian said, flying eye-level with Obi-Wan. “I’m yours and your friend’s contact.” 

Obi-Wan smiled politely. “It’s a pleasure. Thank you for taking me in.” 

Roz grinned, crossing her arms with a snort. “Your friend called at just the right time. I have someone I’m going to partner you up with. He’s your trainer. Though, he ain’t here yet, so we’ll just go to my office. Your ship can return itself now.” 

The droid in the transport heard. It beeped at them then started the ship back up for departure. Obi-Wan and Roz were already off, headed for the Toydarian’s office. 

Obi-Wan didn’t know much about Outland Station. It was built above a barren planetoid incapable of life. It was wildly popular with the gruffer types. It brought in plenty of credits, that was apparent. And it was all run by Roz. 

Roz’s office wasn’t far from the private hangar but there were clearly enough defenses between them for her to not be in immediate danger if there was an attack. It was a homey design; potted plants on end-tables and in corners, pictures of film posters or of the station itself hanging in frames on the walls. Her office, once they actually arrived was of the same design, except purposefully a bit harsher with the placement of a desk in the center of the room. 

“Sit and relax. We have to talk before your partner arrives,” Roz instructed. She locked the door before she fluttered to the large chair behind the desk and settled on it. Obi-Wan took his bag off and set it on the chair next to him as he sat down. 

“Qui-Gon has already informed me of your situation, but we won’t ever acknowledge him as that. Our story is that he and I met once when he was away from your ‘civilization’ and he owed me a favor, so you were sent my way after your ‘people’ ‘retired’ you for having too much exposure. This sound correct so far?” Roz asked. She got a nod so she continued, “You guys were swordsmen and you were sent out for jobs but if you were sent out too much, then you had to be retired, which meant kicking you out. That scar looks fresh, any story for it?” 

Obi-Wan’s hand flew to his cheek. He finally took the patch off it on the first cycle of his journey. It was healed up but scarred and still red. “If it comes up, let’s just say I got it during my last job.” 

“Fine by me. Let’s look at skills. You are well-versed with melee weapons and… the Force. Any experience with a blaster?” 

“I have a basic blaster that I was practicing with on my way here. I know enough to get the job done.” Well, he thought and hoped he knew enough to get the job done with a blaster. 

“Perfect. After all, it’s your partner’s duty to train you. Can’t imagine it would take you long to learn from him. If you don’t like him, you can leave once you’ve learned all you could. I’m sure Qui-Gon informed you of that.” 

They went over a few more things to make sure their stories were straight, but it wasn’t a lot. Roz entertained herself with some paperwork and little devices. Obi-Wan found himself zoning out almost to a meditation, mostly just to retreat into his mind to balance his emotions. 

It was about a standard hour later. There was a quiet series of beeping from a datapad on the desk, causing Roz to put her things aside and begin to fly. “He’s here. Let’s go to a meeting room.” Obi-Wan grabbed his bag to follow. 

She led the way down a hall to a meeting room. There was a rectangular table in the center of the room, one small plant directly on the center of it. Obi-Wan’s future partner wasn’t there yet so he took the opportunity to go to the other side of the table, excusing it as a way to stretch his legs. Roz didn’t say anything about it (she didn’t say a word, in fact), she just settled in a chair at the head of the table nearest to the door. 

A few minutes later, the door slid open to reveal a man in blue and silver Mandalorian armor. He took a step in just as Roz began to introduce him. 

“Dral Khor, meet your new mentor: Jango Fett.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A list of notes I made while writing and editing this chapter:  
> 1) I don’t know a lot about Zeffo. The information I came across was a bit sparse due to it being in only the most recent game. Tbh, I was looking up planets with mountainous regions, it came up and fit my requirements, so I chose it. I was unaware of some backstory of the people on the planet when I chose and wrote it in.  
> 2) I want to state now that, despite the mentions about Obi-Wan’s potential to become a great negotiator and Master, he’s not at the same maturity or temperament (at the same age) as he was in TPM. Of course Qui-Gon feels that his former Padawan is capable of such things, it is harder for this hot-headed Obi-Wan to actually pull through. He may eventually shine through, using those skills, but right now he is just focused on running away from his problems (as Astra said). We might see him acting a bit... spontaneously in the future.  
> 3) Astra was originally going to be a made-up crèche-mate because I was being a dumbass and was having a hard time locating Obi-Wan’s actual crèche-mates. But now she is just a close friend to Obi-Wan. If you didn’t like her, that’s fine, because we might not ever see her again. 😊  
> 4) Astra calling Obi-Wan ‘Captain’ and ‘Cap’ is in reference to his previous dreams of becoming a pilot.  
> 5) As I was going back to make edits, I realized I fucking backed myself into a corner that I’m not proud of. Here it is. Generally speaking, masters on the council don’t take on padawans but there’s no clear explanation as to why. Speculation is that the masters don’t have enough time to teach. However, I banked on Astra having a master on the council so she could approach Obi-Wan like that but bleh. Plo has been on the council for years, 12 or so years with a padawan is nothing. And guess what? Astra‘ll be a Knight soon anyway, so let’s just not worry about that.  
> 6) And finally, it’s probably not possible for a midi-chlorian count to change. Do I care? Yes, I actually do (my original answer was no, when I was making these notes). Im trying to keep everything as accurate to legends/cannon as possible. Sometimes it gets frustrating trying to find terminology or answers to how someone felt about this other person, how long does it take to get from here to here, and such. Im trying my best. So strap in and try to enjoy the ride! 
> 
> In conclusion; thank you for reading, I hope you enjoyed!


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I got a bit distracted while writing. I got Fallen Order, KOTOR, and MW2 Remastered to keep myself busy when I can’t write. But this means I got to visit Zeffo!
> 
> i also had to wrap up some things in my personal life BUT I did get the next chapter started, so there’s that. And I was trying to get my notes under control because they aren't updated and therefore a mess.

Unbelievable. This was the face to the name. Jango Fett, notorious bounty hunter, Jedi-killer, and _Mand’alor_ is Obi-Wan’s new teacher. Obi-Wan’s ears were ringing like he was just caught in an explosion. Was Roz crazy? She knew Obi-Wan was previously a Jedi so why would she pair him up with someone who was able to kill Jedi _with their bare hands_? 

“He’s young,” Jango grumbled from his place at the entrance. 

“No more than nine years younger than you. Now, both of you sit. You’re like pacing predators and I’d be more comfortable with you two sitting,” Roz sighed. 

Both men moved forward at the same time, Obi-Wan on the shyer side. Since the table wasn’t that big, they both sat next to Roz, and therefore across from each other. They were facing each other for a few long seconds until Jango slowly reached up to unlatch and remove his helmet. He set it on the table, visor facing his new student. Obi-Wan couldn’t tell if it was supposed to be a threat or supposed to be intimidating but he didn’t ignore the action. 

“I said I wasn’t looking for anyone to take under my wing, especially right now.” 

Roz grunted. “The last thing we talked about was taking him in and you agreed, you hypocrite. _Now_ is the time you need someone to be watching your back. He says he’s a quick learner so you won’t have a hard time teaching him.” 

“You have a file?” Roz nodded in answer, pulling out a datapad. “Then I want to review it.” 

The Toydarian went over what she and Obi-Wan discussed beforehand. Dral Khor was from a secluded society of swordsmen on Zeffo. They were, more or less, blades for hire for nobility to show off in displays of wealth—other jobs tended to be simple bounties or resource collection outings. They were self-sustained but sometimes when they went out for missions, instead of pay they usually asked for resources. And when they sent people out too many times, spoiled from the outside world, they are “retired” (always the nicer way of saying “kicked out”). Dral Khor’s retirement was the reason he was here. 

“Shouldn’t they send the older ones out so they aren’t kicking out the young ones like you?” Jango asked. Despite his gruff, restricted voice, he sounded genuinely curious, if not a bit suspicious. 

“It’s a mix. Sometimes the nobility wants certain-aged faces for standing around to look pretty or show wealth. Otherwise, groups of us have different skill sets. My leaders were always smart enough to hold enough people back so we didn’t die off,” Obi-Wan explained. “They decided to continuously send me out on missions so they could retire me because they didn’t want my genetics to stick around.” 

Jango’s eyes darted to Obi-Wan’s copper hair curiously, so he continued, “Yes, that and they believed there was too much spunk in me that would lead to rebellious offspring. Best get rid of something rotten before roots settle and infect everything else.” 

Obi-Wan felt like he was reaching but that was why he and Qui-Gon sat down to talk about his made-up past. They had been cynical about it, keeping the culture of the fake warriors in mind. They had to think plainly, selfishly, and superficially. Obi-Wan’s naturally reddish hair was something he himself was quick to bring up (Qui-Gon had been reluctant to agree to it but he eventually came around). Then they had to keep past experiences in mind and have good reasons for the times he gets too sporadic. 

“Sounds like there’s a bit more to the reason why you had to leave.” 

Obi-Wan kept his expression neutral as Roz spoke, “Jango, he’s not on trial. Don’t take this further than this needs to go.” 

“Do I get a turn to ask questions?” Obi-Wan quipped. 

Jango arched an eyebrow, leaning on one elbow. “You have to earn them.” 

Obi-Wan narrowed his eyes and stayed silent. 

Roz finished going over stuff about Dral before she started going over rules on the station. Basic rules like no killing or stealing. The districts all followed the same rules, as did the pit. Obi-Wan would also get his own room to stay in while he would be present, so he didn’t have to worry about packing up every time he left. It sounded strange to have a room of his own after so many years with a Jedi Master but it would’ve happened either way. Then there was also a private mini-gym that only he, Jango, and any of their guests will have access to. They also weren’t far from the public medical area, just in case there were any accidents (Roz promised Obi-Wan that he would get a proper tour soon). 

“So under Jango, you’ll be learning how to be a bounty hunter. If that’s not what you want to do when he deems your training finished, then you’ll at least know how to protect yourself,” Roz finished as she powered her datapad down. “Any questions before you are shown around?” 

Obi-Wan shook his head. 

They got up and left the meeting room to go on the tour, Jango tucking his _buy’ce_ under an arm. They started back at the private hangar, where there was a new ship docked. Roz explained that it was a private hangar for her, Jango, Dral, and any guests they invite. The leader of a popular underground station has to have plenty of private things for themself, according to Roz. 

Then they arrived at the little lobby connected to the hangar. It was a little security check, Obi-Wan noticed. There were scanners on each side of every doorway and a camera in every corner. There were several other doorways, apart from the one leading to the hangar. One led to Roz’s office, another right next to that, and a third was to a guest refresher and maintenance closet. A fourth, the one that led back to the private rooms, like the meeting room they were just in, was the doorway that had the most scanners. 

Beyond the fourth door, and after several meeting-like rooms, after another door was a short recreational hall with a small kitchen on the far side. It was only for them and guests, a place to relax, hang out, and eat together. Through a door by the kitchen was a dead-end hall where their rooms were located. Each door was as plain as the others. There were more than three doors, so Obi-Wan assumed the others were guest rooms. A lot of what he has seen so far seemed to keep guests in mind… 

“Your room is at the end, right across from Jango’s,” Roz said. “Why don’t you drop your stuff off? It’s unlocked.” 

Obi-Wan nodded. He approached the end of the hallway, able to identify his room once he got close enough. His keypad wasn’t activated, unlike the red one next to the door across the hall. He pressed the button to open in. Once the door slid open, he walked in. 

The room was bigger than what he was used to. There was enough room in the general living space to conduct simple exercises and enough furniture to laze around comfortably (though he wasn’t sure how much time he’d have to do that. It was something he definitely didn’t get to experience as a Padawan). There were dark curtains blocking off a corner of the room, presumably a den of sorts, and a ‘fresher in the corner next to it. There was no kitchen, unlike Qui-Gon’s quarters, but that was the purpose of the communal kitchen they’ll have to share. 

Obi-Wan walked deeper into his room toward the dark curtains, pulling them back to step through. They were heavy and did a fine job of separating the sleeping area from the rest of the room. His bed was in the far corner, next to a little control panel detailing something about the curtains and maybe a wall but he didn’t look at it too closely. He set his backpack on the bed to unclip his falchion to put on his belt. His blaster was already strapped to his hip and his lightsabers were tucked safely against his chest. His armor was in his backpack but he wasn’t expecting to get jumped so he gave himself a little pat down then left the room. 

Roz was looking at him expectantly. “Up to par?” 

“It’ll do,” Obi-Wan huffed playfully. He caught sight of Jango studying him from the corner of his eye. 

Roz showed her teeth in a Toydarian grin. “Right…” 

Roz showed Obi-Wan their little private entrance to the rest of the station. Only they could access it because they had a special code and DNA scanner for the door (which Obi-Wan was to get acquainted with later). It would lead to a quieter part of the station, not too far from the medical center. Then they retraced their steps to the public entrance to the rest of the station. At the moment, it was closed off but it was clearly a place to wait for an appointment with Roz. Once again, the medical center wasn’t far but their private pathway would get them there faster (and according to Roz, there were many private and secret passageways hidden all over the station for them to use. As long as Obi-Wan knew what to look for, he shouldn’t have a hard time finding them). 

“That concludes the tour. Any questions? No? Good,” the Toydarian grumbled. “Jango will show you back to your room and show you how to set up the security for your room. And if you don’t like the curtains, you can replace them with a wall. See you both next meal.” 

Both men watched her leave. Obi-Wan could feel some tension radiating from Jango in the Force. Maybe he didn’t like the fact that he was just told what to do or he didn’t want to be alone with his new student, but Obi-Wan was going to make sure to keep enough distance between them until he was sure he could trust the other man. And he needed to figure out if Jango was Force-sensitive at all, and if he was then how much. 

“Come on…” Jango grumbled. He shoved his helmet back on, securing it with ease as they walked back to their living areas. 

Obi-Wan walked behind the other man, studying what he could see. The armor was probably true beskar, it wouldn’t make sense why the _Mand’alor_ would have a knock-off. He wore a jetpack, which wasn’t uncommon for Mandalorians in armor. His vambraces probably had hidden features tucked away inside. Lastly, the twin WESTAR-34 blasters. Obi-Wan didn’t know much about them but the rumor was that if you could hear their distinct sounds, then it may be too late for you to escape (that is, if you were the bounty hunter’s target). They were deadly blasters that had no right to be so powerful for their size. 

When they were at Obi-Wan’s room, Jango showed him how to set his security. He could only set a keycode and it would get sent to Roz in a private message, just in case there was ever an emergency. He could choose to make his password between four and ten digits long. Jango was respectful enough to turn his head away when Obi-Wan finally made his decision. 

“And that panel by your bed will control if you want your bedroom to have walls or curtains,” Jango murmured when Obi-Wan was done. “Not like it’ll affect what neighbors will hear…” 

Obi-Wan startled momentarily. He thought he would have to figure that out by himself. He wasn’t expecting Jango to be… _helpful_ quite yet. “Pardon?” 

Jango turned to him fully, radiating annoyance. “I _said_ the panel by your bed will control if you want your bedroom to have walls or those curtains. Whatever you choose, it won’t make a difference besides what you’ll hear. Your neighbors won’t hear shit no matter what you choose, unless you decide to cause a ruckus that somehow basic soundproofing can’t stop.” He sounded annoyed, too. 

“Oh, thank you.” 

The bounty hunter approached his own door, typing in his code with practiced ease. “Dinner is the next meal. You arrived before the night cycle. Settle in, we start training tomorrow.” After that, he slipped into his room, door locking behind him and the keypad showing a new little symbol (probably representing the room owner being home). 

Obi-Wan stepped into his own room, hearing his door lock behind him. He let out a sigh of relief as he collapsed to his knees and buried his face in his hands. His resolve was cracked and it was only the first day of his new life. All he knew came from the Jedi, and he was no longer one. His bond with Qui-Gon was in the process of fading due to the distance between them. He is now Dral Khor, an ex-glorified bodyguard-for-hire. 

The lightsabers against his chest felt burdensome abruptly. Their weight against his chest representing his worst failures—one for each—was too much. 

The ex-Jedi got to his feet, detaching his vest like he’s owned it for more than a week and threw it over the back of the couch in the living area, leaving his torso uncomfortably cold. He wrapped his arms around himself and began to pace. 

Obi-Wan had to figure out how long he would be training with Jango so he could gauge when he could leave. As long as he kept that part of himself hidden and got on Jango’s good side, then he wouldn’t have anything to worry about. Roz promised to keep his secret and would—he assumed—give him tips about jobs if that’s what she already did with Jango. Qui-Gon _did_ say she’d probably have jobs he could complete that Jango wouldn’t be able to. Obi-Wan would be willing to do anything but returning to the Order was his last option. 

Obi-Wan stopped in the center of the room. He briefly reached out with the Force to make sure his room wasn’t bugged. It wasn’t. He didn’t expect it to be but it didn’t hurt to be cautious. Jango was the one he was most suspicious of and expected that in return. One doesn’t last as a bounty hunter by trusting absolutely everyone. 

Sighing, the ex-Jedi plopped down onto the sofa. It was comfortable enough to sleep on for one or two nights. Much better quality than the furniture in Qui-Gon’s room but not as nice as one would find in a palace. It was a perfect quality for Obi-Wan to focus on to ground himself. The leather cushions, slightly textured, were soft against his fingertips. It was homely, in a sense; his entire room. It wasn’t a Jedi’s room, so it was different from what he was used to but it was nice. 

There was a flatscreen on the wall facing the couch. Obi-Wan grabbed the remote for it to investigate. It was connected to the HoloNet, showing the common channels that everyone gets and even a local one of pit fighting on Outland Station. 

He watched pit fighting reruns for the next hour to distract himself. It was something he didn’t expect to get engrossed in but it happened. A message from Roz interrupted him eventually. The food was ready. 

Obi-Wan left his room, leaving his vest and therefore lightsabers behind. Roz was in the recreational room, by the kitchen, fluttering in place with a plate in hand. Getting closer, Obi-Wan realized the prepared food was _actual_ food, not some of the packet stuff he had eaten on his way to the station. Just the sight of it made his mouth water. 

“Roz, you have built quite a place here,” Obi-Wan complimented, being polite like he was taught to be and like he wasn’t just having a dilemma in his room. He began making himself a plate of the boiled greens and cooked bird on the stove. It wasn’t professionally made but it had to be better than packaged food. 

The Toydarian grunted. “Don’t tell me that until you’ve visited one or more districts.” She flitted toward the small table to sit on a chair. “How’s the food?” 

The bird, as humans often say, tasted like chicken. The greens were just generic vegetables for filling one’s stomach and offering nutrition with taste the last thing in mind. It was satisfying, to a point. 

“Good,” he said. “Are you the cook?” 

Roz laughed like Obi-Wan told a hilarious joke. “No! You’re funny, kid. The cook to kiss is Jango.” 

Obi-Wan made a face. Roz saw it because she spoke again, “I know he seems rough along the edges right now, but he’ll warm up to you. He’s a warrior, I _know_ he’ll warm up to you once he sees your skills.” 

Using the Force, Obi-Wan was able to locate Jango in his own room so he deemed it safe to talk about the man. “Yes, about him… What exactly made you think it was a good idea to make us work together? He and Jedi don’t have a good history.” 

“Well, you’re not a Jedi. Not anymore, at least. And if he finds out you were a Jedi, what can he do about it? You left that lifestyle behind, he has no reason to attack you for it.” Roz shrugged. “If and possibly when he makes a fuss about it, just come to me so I can put him in his place. The man doesn’t always know what’s good for him…” 

“Thanks… Roz.” 

The Toydarian smiled as she held up her utensil. “I help you, you help me. You’re part of our family now.” 

Obi-Wan blinked. He wasn’t expecting to be welcomed in so soon—especially by a non-Force user who wasn’t able to prod and test him to see what kind of person he was through the Force—so he just nodded and continued eating. When he was finished, he said a curt goodnight to Roz then headed back to his room. At his door, he hesitated. He wondered if he should thank Jango for the meal and bid him goodnight, but the man went right to his room after he made the food for a reason. It was best to leave him alone. 

He entered his room and got things around to wrap up his day. He picked up his vest carefully and brought it to his curtained bedroom, folding and setting it on the dresser. While he was there, he removed his blaster and falchion from his body and grabbed his clothes to take a visit to the ‘fresher. 

The refresher was pretty standard. There was a shower, toilet, and sink, including a closet with extra supplies and a laundry hamper. All of the promised supplies were there, including several pairs of sleep clothes. He took note of everything before grabbing some standard shampoo and body wash and jumped in the shower. 

The warm water pelted his skin pleasantly when it was active. It was similar to what was at the Jedi Temple, so there was nothing new about it, but it outshone what was previously available to him on his way over. His ship lacked the same water pressure and water temperature responsiveness that made showers enjoyable. But he made sure not to get distracted so he didn’t waste too much time in the ‘fresher. 

After his shower and when he was dressed, Obi-Wan got ready for his nightly meditation. He dimmed the lights in his room and retrieved the Force-sensitive stone from a pouch on his belt before he settled cross-legged on his bed. He used the stone to ground him as he started to meditate so he didn’t lose himself or start to levitate items around him. 

The Force around him was quiet, which was unnerving. Most other times when he meditated, he was with Qui-Gon so he was able to take comfort in his Master’s presence (or there were simply more minds around to bleed things into the Force. But now he’s in the company of a non-Force-sensitive Toydarian and a bounty hunter who has killed several Jedi before, and who’s to say if Jango is Force-sensitive or not). Qui-Gon always felt steady—so sure—when they meditated, meanwhile Obi-Wan has been told that he feels like an invasive vine or weed out of control. It made Obi-Wan temporarily venomous at the thought of being a leech every time he meditated. Would Anakin be easier to train than he was? He and Qui-Gon at least get along already, unlike the very unsteady relationship between Qui-Gon and Obi-Wan at the start of their time together. 

It took a moment but Obi-Wan eventually reeled himself in, making sure to focus on the stone. He held onto his feelings, his frustration and anger wanted to boil over the metaphorical edges of his mind, but he held it in until it fizzled out and he was left a bit calmer. It felt trivial but it would have to be his new go-to if releasing his emotions into the Force was off the table. And it had to be. He couldn’t walk around Outland Station (or anywhere with Jango, for that matter) like he was the emotionless politician he was taught to be. Now he was allowed to properly show his emotions, he just couldn’t embrace the negative ones. 

Obi-Wan allowed his mind to wander a bit but made sure part of him was still focused on his river stone. He felt around his room with the Force before branching out. He ignored most of the little things in his room but he felt his lightsabers and briefly examined them. His weapon was familiar, the kyber crystal inside comfortable with him. Then Kencha’s ‘saber. That crystal was familiar to him but it had always felt wary in return toward him, like he still had to prove himself to it. Part of the reason why he never used it… 

Beyond the scope of his room, he could detect Roz in her own room and Jango somewhere else on the station. Strange, but it wasn’t Obi-Wan’s business. Obi-Wan was just supposed to be testing his limits, and he was losing focus on his stone so he came back to himself. 

Over the next hour or so, Obi-Wan simply meditated. He refused to release his emotions, so connecting to the Force was a little more difficult than it usually was for him, but he found his way. His river stone helped keep him focused but it wasn’t enough to get him through the night. Energy thrummed through his veins and refused to let him stay calm enough for meditating. 

Frustrated, Obi-Wan sighed and swung his legs over the side of the bed swiftly. With practiced ease, he was able to catch his stone when it fell from the air and put it next to his vest on the dresser. He wandered out into the hall, taking immediate notice of Jango’s keypad missing the symbol that showed the occupant was in. It still wasn’t Obi-Wan’s business, but he was curious. 

The hallway lights were dimmed but there was more light coming from the recreational room so Obi-Wan let his feet take him to the next room. And there was a light lit above the kitchen’s sink. It looked like a more individual, manual light. Probably Jango, then. 

It was either the Force or maybe Obi-Wan’s gut but before he knew it, he was standing in front of the door to their private gym. Through the little window on the door, Jango could be seen throwing punches at a dummy. His knuckles were wrapped in a fabric and the ashy grey shirt he was wearing was soaked with sweat in multiple places. Judging by his sweat, he has been at it for a bit. 

Then the door decided to automatically open once it detected Obi-Wan lurking. He couldn’t stop himself from flinching, especially when he saw that Jango heard and he reactively froze. Jango slowly turned his head to look. 

“Uh…” Obi-Wan mumbled. He felt his cheeks heat up from embarrassment, a rare thing to ever happen to him nowadays. “Sorry. I didn’t mean to interrupt.” 

Jango relaxed from his stance but his shoulders looked tense like he was the opposite of relaxed (and he probably was, Obi-Wan would be too). He didn’t say anything as he turned toward his new students with his arms crossed. 

What else was Obi-Wan supposed to say? He can apologize again but he had a feeling it would fall of deaf ears. 

“Would you care to spar?” 

Jango’s brow furrowed (he looked to be on the brink of frowning). His eyes ran up and down Obi-Wan, taking in the loose clothes. 

“No, not really.” 

Obi-Wan bowed his head in acceptance. “That’s fine. I’m sorry to have bothered you.” He turned to leave the room but was interrupted. 

“ _Tomorrow_ we start training. I’m not dealing with you until then. You better not disappoint.” 

Because Roz defended him so much, Obi-Wan _had_ to impress Jango. It shouldn’t be too hard (he hoped) but he knew nothing about the _Mand’alor_. He expects the littlest thing could be counted against him if Jango was so unwilling to teach someone. As long as he performed as best he could, everything would be fine. 

His next words came out bitterly, “I don’t plan to.” 

Jango sneered silently as they turned away at the same time. 

Obi-Wan headed back to his room. He didn’t want to meditate so instead, he started the process of deconstructing and reconstructing his lightsaber until he grew tired enough for an hour or two of sleep. When he woke, he put some of his lighter clothes on for training, left his vest with the lightsabers under the pillow, attached his falchion to his belt and blaster pistol to his hip, then left his room to meet the others. 

He made _sure_ that his door would lock after him. Not only was his personal lightsaber in there, but his river stone and Kencha’s lightsaber were there too. Those two items he held dear to his heart and couldn’t stand the thought of them getting seen by the wrong eye or taken away in any sort of manner. 

Breakfast consisted of some sort of paste made from mixing oats and something from a box, topped off with some bits of red fruits. It was pretty much tasteless except for the little berries. Obi-Wan deduced that it was just to fill one’s stomach until the next meal since there was nothing spectacular about it. 

Jango and Roz ate with him at the table. Jango ate with his head down, glowering at his food. He was wearing something akin to what he had on the night before but colored a navy blue. Roz, meanwhile, made friendly conversation with both men, even if it was one-sided when she talked Jango’s way. She seemed genuinely interested in what Obi-Wan had to say, even when he was answering how he slept. 

After breakfast, Jango told Obi-Wan to meet him in the gym after about an hour. Presumably enough time for one’s food to settle. Though, when Jango was done eating and his bowl was placed in the sink, it looked like his next destination was the gym. But no matter, Obi-Wan would still arrive in an hour. 

“He normally eat in silence?” Obi-Wan sighed. 

Roz hummed tiredly. “Yes and no. He’s not famous for talking but I can usually get more out of him. It’s like I said, kid, just give him some time to warm up to you.” 

Obi-Wan nodded. He’s too familiar with rejection, but he’ll power through it. 

The hour passed uneventfully. Obi-Wan went to his room to finish freshening up then went to the gym. Jango was off to the side, drinking from a bottle by a weapon rack. He didn’t look sweaty yet so he was probably moving things around? 

When Obi-Wan approached, he motioned down toward his hips. 

“Your blaster and sword. Tell me about them.” 

Obi-Wan looked down at them. “The blaster, I don’t know a lot about. It’s basic and probably for a learner like me. The _falchion_ I am familiar with. I trained with blades growing up so I can fight better with them. This particular blade is made of cortosis weave. It can combat a lightsaber. It _is_ only single-edged, so some types of attacks are out of the question.” 

Jango looked at Obi-Wan, seeming unimpressed specifically at being corrected about the falchion. He tipped his head to the side, almost smirking, before motioning to the weapon rack. 

“Right. Well, I’m going to summon some targets. I want to see how well you shoot with pistols and rifles first,” Jango said. He sounded much less aggressive than the day before. 

The rest of the morning went smoothly. Obi-Wan didn’t show much proficiency with the pistols but he made up for that with the rifles, the snipers specifically. Jango wore his impression on his face. Then, when they got to melee weapon use, Obi-Wan used everything given to him fluidly. He made short work of every weapon there. Jango didn’t seem as impressed but Obi-Wan wasn’t surprised, since he himself said that was where his proficiencies lie. 

At the end of their training, Jango was nodding to himself. His words were quiet but not hard to miss. 

“Maybe we will make this work.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This one was a bit shorter than what I usually write but I hope that's not too noticeable. 
> 
> Notes I made while writing:  
> 1\. Thanks to KOTOR, I was introduced to cortosis weave. Since Dral’s “people” are supposedly based on the Order, I thought it would make sense if they had weapons that could withstand lightsaber blows. It says in the game that cortosis weave “can stand up to anything, even a lightsaber” and the wiki article mentions that cortosis weave can deactivate a lightsaber, but only if there's a decent amount of cortosis weave (basically if it's armor). I don't see that happening in the future? But now you know if you didn't already.  
> 2\. Like the beginning notes said, I got Fallen Order so I got to visit Zeffo and therefore got to learn a bit more about its people. It sounds like the Zeffo were a race of Force-sensitive beings so, even if Obi-Wan won’t be showing use of the Force around Jango, I feel like it’s safe to say that Dral’s “people” are based off the Order (because, basically, the way they’re described, they’re rentable Jedi). To clarify: Dral’s “people” are not the same as Zeffo (and don't consider themselves as Zeffo). (I don't see this as an immensely important point to mention? I just thought it would be good to clarify)  
> 3\. For those also not well-versed with the EU, Obi-Wan’s Force-sensitive stone is real! Its appearance was in Jedi Apprentice: the Hidden Past. Qui-Gon gives it to Obi-Wan as a birthday present. 
> 
> Translations:  
> Mand'alor - sole ruler, leader of the Mandalorian people  
> buy'ce - helmet


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you all are staying safe and healthy out there, and happy pride month!

After about a week, Obi-Wan recognized the routine they fell in. 

Most mornings, Jango was the first to wake and thus the one to make breakfast. The normal breakfast seemed to consist of a type of gruel that was quick and easy to make that offered some nutritional value and didn’t consist of many calories. It was basically the same as the first morning’s breakfast but with different fruit options and different gruel textures. 

Roz was quick to warn Obi-Wan on the side that Jango didn’t prepare breakfast every morning, and said it was surprising to see him cook so much in one week. Obi-Wan didn’t really see it as cooking, but he wasn’t going to let that thought leave his lips. If Jango was altering his normal schedule because Obi-Wan arrived, then all he could really do was take note and ask about it later if it bothers him. 

Near the end of that first week together, Obi-Wan managed to be the first one up so he made breakfast. The gruel wasn’t hard to make, especially since it was from a box or made by mixing a few loose ingredients together. The main difference he decided to incorporate was to add more of the oats so the mixture would hopefully not be as runny. Jango was the next one to be up and looked vaguely surprised to see the other man in the kitchen (and making their breakfast, no less). 

After breakfast, they all went their separate ways. Roz went off to do whatever the owner of a station does. She had several offices. She spent the most time during the day at the public one because she had people to see and things to run. Obi-Wan and Jango went to their respective rooms to let their stomachs settle and to put on the proper attire for training. They’d then meet back up for their morning training. 

They worked on very few things the first two days before Jango took the fact that Obi-Wan _was_ a fast learner to heart. After an aggressive sparring match, each man sporting several minor injuries, Jango was immediately looser (despite losing) and calmly agreed to step up training. Then every morning they started doing several things. Training went a lot smoother after that. 

Obi-Wan liked to think things were moving along smoother after that, but he also knew he wouldn’t have that type of luck. Especially considering Jango’s reputation. 

With Roz off doing her work, Jango and Obi-Wan fended for themselves at lunch. They served themselves by eating leftovers or making something light from the more simple ingredients available. Afterward, the remaining afternoon was for themselves. Obi-Wan wandered around the station for hours. He looked for parts for advancing his Padawan-grade lightsaber and spent the remainder of the time exploring. He got to see the pit fights and ventured through most of the districts. He also made sure to seek out more of the secret passageways so he’d know his way around the station even better. 

Nearing the end of the day, Jango usually made the final meal. They would all eat together then part ways to their rooms. After enough time would pass for their food to settle in their stomachs, Jango and Obi-Wan would meet to spar in the gym. After getting rejected the first night, Obi-Wan arrived again at the same time the day after his and Jango’s spar. Jango, for some reason, didn’t turn him down again. He showed some reluctance but he gave in and sparred. 

Sparring with Jango was enjoyable. Not only was he a crack shot, but he was also excellent at hand-to-hand combat. He was aggressive, not giving Obi-Wan a lot of space to move by continuously advancing on him, was always ready to block an attack (which would be extremely successful with his vambraces on), _and_ his skills currently scaled with the ones Obi-Wan openly showed. Obi-Wan, admittingly, fought poorly at first so he could gauge Jango’s skill and he was impressed. Though he supposed one doesn’t become a notorious bounty hunter by only being good with weapons. He wondered how long Jango will be able to keep up. 

Obi-Wan made sure to give Jango a run for his credits when they sparred but was always careful not to stand out too much with his own abilities. He has always been a fast learner, Force or not, but even he had to admit that he learned how to shoot weapons awfully fast. 

When it was close to a standard month, Jango began introducing the process of researching bounties to their lessons. It excited Obi-Wan. He noticed the change with the way Jango acted now versus when they first met. Jango didn’t always have nice things to say, and often had biting words to throw Obi-Wan’s way when he felt like they were deserved (that part seemed like him trying to get aggression worked out of his system. It definitely proved the Mandalorian language wasn’t built on the kindest words. Obi-Wan could confidently say the _Mand’alor_ utilized his vocabulary well and most likely thought his student didn’t know _Mando’a_ ), but he also knew how to curb himself enough to get out _some_ nice words. There were still times when Obi-Wan received the cold shoulder or he and Roz had to suffer through a silent breakfast because Jango wasn’t in the mood to acknowledge his student until they were in the gym (that initially hurt after he thought he was getting somewhere but it was another thing he was beginning to accept about his new life). 

Even though Jango was having Obi-Wan practicing research for a job (it looked like some computer-generated thing), Roz came to them and announced a job on Tatooine. They were getting offered it first before it went public, but that meant they would have to leave in a few days and cut some of their training short before all other bounty hunters got to see it. 

Obi-Wan could feel Jango’s discomfort at the thought of going on a job so soon with a new partner. Kriff, _Obi-Wan_ was a bit nervous when he even thought about it. He’s been working with his blasters and falchion every day but it was a different environment. He couldn’t pull a lightsaber out on the fly to deflect blaster bolts like he was taught to ever since he built it. Out on the job with Jango, it was all real and he couldn’t afford to make any mistakes, or else he could end up dead or Jango could drop him for being a horrible student. 

Obi-Wan and Jango were in the gym doing simple stretching when Roz came to them with her datapad in hand. Jango, who had been the calmest Obi-Wan had seen him yet, looked deeply annoyed. “What makes you think _I_ want to act on it?” 

Roz snorted as she handed her datapad off to him. “Why _wouldn’t_ you? It’s on Tatooine, your favorite lawless planet, _and_ you’ll be taking down a nobody who thinks he’s all that. It may be a grade or two lower than what you’re used to but it’s a good start for Dral!” 

Obi-Wan silently watched Jango scan over the information as they continued to stretch. He basically had himself bent in half to stay busy while he waited for the datapad or for Jango to make his decision. 

“He’s wanted for smuggling and spice running and _that’s_ the price on his head?” Jango shook his head but, surprisingly, he gave the device to Obi-Wan. 

Meanwhile, Roz explained, “Well, there’re several rumors about him. Some say he wronged a Hutt, others say he’s the son of a no-good, long-dead politician. Very few stories actually match up from what’s provided on the listing. The only solid info is that he runs with a small gang stationed on Tatooine and he’s there right now and will be for a week or two.” 

Obi-Wan scanned over the information. The target was a light pinkish Mirialan that went by the name Yaben. His parents weren’t listed but the information on the datapad suggested he’s the son of a politician, like Roz’s rumors say. He didn’t look familiar and—to Obi-Wan—he looked awfully young. There was no way he was twenty-five like it said on the datapad. 

He finished looking at everything. The target’s whereabouts were very detailed, up to the point where it suggests the time he stops work to head to the nearest cantina for drinks. The worst thing they’d have to deal with would probably be Yaben’s entourage of coworkers. The bounty page didn’t supply how many there would be, it only supplied the location of their encampment and an estimate that there would be several gunners there. 

“When would you suggest leaving?” Jango asked Roz as he requested Obi-Wan to hand the datapad back to him with a little hand motion. 

“Maybe tomorrow, you’d be pushing it by leaving the day after that. It’ll take a couple ‘a days to reach Tatooine and then it’s up to you how long you’re gonna take scouting.” Roz sighed and shrugged. “I can mark the bounty down as claimed when I post it publicly but we both know I can’t remove the reward until it’s actually completed.” 

Jango looked thoughtful as he bit his lip and studied the bounty a few seconds longer. Then he turned his calculating eyes to Obi-Wan. He was frowning slightly but clearly thinking. Having made his decision, he focused on Roz and handed her datapad back to her. 

“We’ll take it.” Then, addressing both of them, “We’ll leave tomorrow after first meal.” 

“Sounds good, Jango. I’ll speak with you boys later.” And then she was fluttering out of the gym, door sliding closed behind her. Obi-Wan stared after her hopefully. Feeling Jango’s emotions through the Force usually put him on edge, and right now he was feeling pure determination and concentration. 

“Enough stretching. Don’t over-stretch.” Jango got to his feet, Obi-Wan following. Jango half-turned to him. “We won’t spar tonight so we can get things on the ship before tomorrow. Do you have armor?” 

“Yes.” 

“Good. Shops sell some stuff on Outland but you probably wouldn’t have time to get any today.” He was heading for the weapon racks so Obi-Wan followed. “We’ll go through shooting drills this morning and spar an hour after lunch.” He stopped suddenly and looked at Obi-Wan critically, their faces only a few inches apart. “Unless you have any objections?” 

That wouldn’t be the first time Jango decided to suddenly invade Obi-Wan’s space as—Obi-Wan assumed—an intimidation tactic. It was one thing he didn’t quite understand. Was he expecting Obi-Wan to suddenly not be fine with his decision? Was he expecting his student to sneer in his face because his personal space was invaded? He never objected to anything yet, in fact, he was fine with Jango’s decisions about bounties when they practiced. And the only time he ‘sneered’ in Jango’s face was when they were sparring once and he let himself get bested and was nearly getting choked by the middle of a polearm. _That_ time it was pure self-defensive because he could taste Jango’s anger through the Force (and it was one of the first times they sparred so Jango _was_ probably taking his anger for his student out onto his student). 

“No, I don’t,” Obi-Wan replied coolly. 

No emotions crossed Jango’s face to reveal if he was satisfied by the answer or disappointed that the other man wasn’t uncomfortable by the action. 

They spent the rest of the morning going through shooting courses with firearms. Jango alerted Obi-Wan that he could take his blaster pistol and a knife with him on their hunt but not the falchion and he _would_ be equipped with a rifle. Obi-Wan argued. He felt like he should be allowed his falchion since people’s attention would be focused more on an armored Mandalorian. He was fine using the rifle but he (supposedly) knew his falchion better than any other weapon. 

Needless to say, they sparred prematurely and Jango’s aggression was oppressive. 

After a heated morning, they parted ways for lunch and met back up an hour later to complete target practice since they already sparred. Obi-Wan was disappointed their spar for the day had to be messy and fueled by anger (primarily Jango’s) but he supposed he deserved it for acting like his younger, hot-headed self and encouraging it. 

Target practice was much calmer this time and Obi-Wan didn’t object to any weapon given to him. 

Roz brought supper back with her. The smell of it filling the recreational room made Obi-Wan’s nose burn. Jango looked very excited to take the food from Roz’s arms. Traditional Mandalorian food, if Obi-Wan had to guess. 

Roz had to bat the _Mand’alor_ away before she ever put the food down. She got out of the way and huffed, “If you’re so desperate for your own people’s food, maybe you should get better at preparing it for yourself.” 

It was _tiingilar_. Obi-Wan got a glimpse of it when Jango was spooning his share into a bowl. It would explain why his nose was already tingling. Obi-Wan had that stew _once_ on Mandalore and he ate it so fast, his eyes were watering for the rest of the day. 

“Roz…” Jango chided, “there are some parts of recipes that I can’t perfect. A few wrong bits can ruin the entire thing.” 

Mandalorian food wasn’t _that_ hard to prepare. Sure, you had to get the right ingredients and measurements but that’s how it is for any dish. Certain foods need to be made with a certain mindset but any dish _can_ be made. Obi-Wan got to see some Mandalorian foods prepared during his time on Mandalore, he even got to try his hand at a few. Plus, he was accustomed to serving meals for him and Qui-Gon… 

“Maybe I can help you some time.” 

Jango whipped around to look at him with passionate (and possibly furious) eyes. He was somehow very close, very fast. This time, their proximity made Obi-Wan a bit nervous. It didn’t help that the room was silent, except for the fluttering of Roz’s wings. 

“That sounds like a great idea, kid!” Roz exclaimed finally. It broke the tension in the air and snapped Jango out of his spell. Though, it also chased Jango out of the room. 

Spooning some stew into his mouth as he walked toward their rooms, Jango said, “Start packing up after you eat. We can load up things we won’t need until we’re on Tatooine tonight.” 

Obi-Wan waited until he heard Jango’s door slide closed to get his own bowl with shaky hands. He fully expected Jango to attack him. Jango seemed like a sensitive man—deep down—and clearly cares for his culture. An outsider like Obi-Wan offering to help make his people’s meals could be seen as a threat. 

Roz sighed, a sound becoming familiar to Obi-Wan after Jango does something she doesn’t think is quite excusable. “Sorry, kid. He’s… well, I can’t go explaining it to you without his permission. I’m sure he appreciates the gesture.” 

“You don’t have to defend him, Roz,” Obi-Wan huffed as he sat down to eat. The stew was already burning his nose and he hasn’t taken a bite yet. “I understand I may have crossed a line.” 

“Maybe, but Jango’s also severely independent. Things happened that shouldn’t’ve and he blames himself for them. They landed him here. And they weren’t good, but he pulled through. Like I said, give him time.” 

They finished their food in silence (Obi-Wan was starting to really get accustomed to that). When Obi-Wan finished, he put his bowl in the washer and packed up the leftovers to put in the fridge. Roz nodded to him thankfully before he headed to his room to pack. 

The main thing that could be loaded up was his armor, so that was the first thing sitting in the middle of Obi-Wan’s room. He packed his bag with a few changes of clothes and added undergarments, throwing the bag next to his armor. His vest… Obi-Wan stared at the vest. His river stone was back in a pouch on his belt, so that was dealt with, but his vest was a bit of a different issue. He’d be wearing armor planetside but he’s never gone on a mission without a lightsaber. He would wear it under his chestpiece but that might look suspicious… It should be safe on Outland but he’d feel most comfortable if they were with him. Kencha’s lightsaber had always been safe on Coruscant because it was always hidden away, but Outland wasn’t a fortress like the Jedi Temple. And he _couldn’t_ leave it on Jango’s ship when they were on Tatooine. 

The vest was the last thing on top of the clothing pile, folded neatly like it was the bow on a gift (though it would be much heavier than a bow due to the lightsabers weighing it down). 

Jango came to his door not long later, to collect him and what he chose to load early. Obi-Wan collected his armor, blaster pistol, and falchion and followed the other man to their private hangar. 

“ _Jaster’s Legacy_ ,” Jango said as they were boarding the starship. He led the way to the cabins. “She was my father’s ship, so don’t make a mess.” 

Obi-Wan thought he recognized the Journeyman Protector sticker on the side of the ship. It made sense, considering Jango wouldn’t have had the time to be a Journeyman Protector and becoming a known bounty hunter at the same time. 

“Well, she seems like a worthy vessel. You have my word I won’t do anything against her.” 

Jango stared at him critically for a moment. “Right. This cabin is yours. Mine is next door. Tomorrow, we eat breakfast with Roz, then we’ll stop by our rooms on the station to grab anything else we need before we leave. After that, we’re off to Tatooine. There’s enough food for both of us there and back. Roz made sure…” 

Obi-Wan put his stuff down at the foot of his bed. Jango was waiting for him by the ramp when he was exiting the ship. After locking the starship up, they parted ways for the rest of the night. 

Obi-Wan freshened up for bed and afterward he meditated. Part of him didn’t see a point to meditating anymore. He didn’t release his emotions into the Force to calm himself down, so reaching the pure Force was a bit more difficult. The only good to come out of it was peace of mind at the sense of normalcy. But if a little sense of normalcy helped him keep a lid on things, then it was worth it. 

He slept peacefully that night. The upcoming bounty excited him. His only worry was working with Jango but the other man was the type of person to put aside differences to get a job done. Even though Jango technically had to work with Obi-Wan, he didn’t have to be nice about it. 

In the morning, Obi-Wan changed out of his sleeping clothes, adding them to his bag of clothing, and dressing in his usual clothes topped off with his vest. He left the bag on the couch, since Jango said they’d return to their rooms for the rest of their things, then left to join breakfast. 

Breakfast was prepared by Roz, it seemed. She made some fairly generic flat-cakes. There was a stack on the table already with a bottle of syrup next to them. She was cleaning up the stove and looked happy to see Obi-Wan. 

“Ah, Dral, just in time!” she exclaimed. 

“What’s this?” Obi-Wan asked quietly, taking a seat at the table. 

“One of Roz’s ways of saying goodbye and good luck before leaving for a job,” Jango answered as he entered the room. He was dressed in the blue suit he wore under his armor, Obi-Wan noted. 

“You know, it’s also my way of saying I love and appreciate you boys for everything you do,” the Toydarian huffed. She threw the rag down she was using to join the men at the table. “You boys will be fending for yourselves, I just thought I’d be nice and make an actual meal instead of paste for breakfast but if you’re against actual food…” 

Obi-Wan coughed, almost choking on his food. “The meal is _very_ appreciated, Roz.” 

Jango huffed. “Right…” 

Breakfast went by quickly. Maybe it was because they were actually eating faster than normal, because he was anxious, or because Obi-Wan was enjoying himself, but before Obi-Wan knew it, they were putting their dishes in the sink, giving Roz hugs, and returning to their rooms for the rest of their things. 

Obi-Wan met back up with Jango in the lobby. His _beskar’gam_ was neatly tied together over the shoulder opposite of his own bag of clothes. He looked Obi-Wan up and down before nodding toward the hangar silently. 

They boarded _Jaster’s Legacy_ and put their things in their respective bunks before meeting on the bridge. Jango went through the motions of teaching Obi-Wan about the ship. It was different from what the Jedi used but it was like a breath of fresh air. 

_Jaster’s Legacy_ was clearly a loved ship and well taken care of. 

Jango’s lesson about the ship was quick, and soon enough, they were leaving Outland and were heading for Tatooine. Obi-Wan, though excited for his first bounty, just realized he was stuck in very close proximity with Jango for several days until they got to Tatooine. And that wasn’t including the journey back or the time they’ll spend on Tatooine together. 

* * *

There was some downtime on their way to Tatooine, but Jango made sure there were designated times for training. They’d train together in either the lounge or cargo bay, lounge if it was before lunch so they could eat right after and cargo bay if they were in the afternoon cycle. Obi-Wan did his own individual things in his bunk when they neared the end of the cycle. He still meditated at the end of every cycle, and he practiced his forms the latest as possible so he wouldn’t be interrupted. The doors locked, but Jango and Obi-Wan both knew the override codes and Jango overrode the lock on his door the very first cycle because Obi-Wan slept a few minutes over. 

Though, their trip to Tatooine was only a few cycles long. There wasn’t _that_ much time for training yet it felt like that was the only thing they did. 

Jango, who showed Obi-Wan the basics for piloting _Jaster’s Legacy_ , landed the ship in the outskirts of Mos Doba, their target town. Obi-Wan sat in the copilot’s seat and watched as they landed in an inconspicuous cave a few klicks from town. 

“Go put your armor on and get your weapons,” Jango ordered as he was fiddling with the console. He was already armored up, having arrived on the bridge ready to go. “Meet me in the cargo bay.” 

“Aye-aye, captain,” Obi-Wan huffed playfully. He pushed himself out of his seat, ignoring Jango’s angry stare—despite the visor—following him. 

Obi-Wan’s armor was made of plastoid-alloy, which was thankfully sturdy and protective enough for its price and weight. His armor came with the full set; visor, shoulder pauldrons, rerebraces, elbow pads, vambraces, chest piece with breast and back protection, codpiece, cuisses, and greaves. All colored in a light grey, matte paint. It was all easy to get on (Obi-Wan had been practicing armoring up) but he opted to just put on all of the arm armor, the chestpiece, and leg pieces and grabbed the visor to put on later. Before he left his bunk, he grabbed his falchion, blaster pistol, and the rifle Jango assigned him after they left Outland. 

Obi-Wan met Jango in the cargo bay like he was told to. Jango was standing near an uncovered speeder bike near the back of the bay, arms crossed and looking pointedly down at the weapon on Obi-Wan’s hip. 

“I thought I said not to bring that.” 

“You saw me bringing it aboard!” 

Jango shrugged. “I didn’t want you to bring it on the job to see if you can follow orders.” He sighed and turned toward the speeder. “Doesn’t matter, I guess. Do you at least have the knives I told you to bring?” After no answer, he shook his head. “Go get the set of knives from the armory, don’t bother putting your _falchion_ back.” 

“Thank you,” Obi-Wan said quietly. He made sure to be quick about getting the knives, shoving the little container onto his belt, next to the miniature repair and medical kits, as he returned to Jango. 

Jango was sitting on the speeder when he got back. Before sitting on the seat behind him, he detached his visor from itself, lined it up, then clipped it shut around his head. 

The visor wasn’t as fancy as what Jango had on his own helmet. The frame of the entire thing was like a stretched pentagon. The base of it went straight across his forehead, the bottom frames almost paralleling that but meeting at a point over the tip of his nose (like in the shape of a bird’s beak). Little boxes jutted out over his ears to protect them from damaging sounds but also had little speakers built in so he could actually hear. The screen of the visor itself was entirely black with a fairly basic HUD. And it was thankfully held still by the thick strap keeping it clipped to his head. 

Visors weren’t really Obi-Wan’s thing but it helped hide his identity and his scar, and the HUD could be useful if he were to mess with it. 

Jango glanced back at him, muttering, “Nice.” 

The ramp to the cargo bay opened and Jango started the speeder down it, stopping when they were off the ship to close it back up after them. 

“If someone finds the ship here, will it be safe?” Obi-Wan asked. 

A little removable switch was suddenly in front of his face. A fail-safe? Obi-Wan has only seen those for _old_ ships with bad security. _Jaster’s Legacy_ wasn’t _that_ old, and its security worked fine, so it was actually impressive it had an extra little protection on it. If the ship’s regular security couldn’t keep people out, then the missing fail-safe would definitely keep people from stealing it. 

“Impressive,” Obi-Wan complimented. 

With _Jaster’s Legacy_ locked up, Jango drove them toward Mos Doba. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope Jango isn’t appearing too ooc and aggressive. He just has some repressed emotions and still isn’t too happy about having Dral aboard. *shrug*
> 
> I envision Obi-Wan’s armor to basically be clone armor or what he wears during the Clone Wars animated series (2003) in episode 8 of the first season (when he dons full clone armor under his robes and attacks Durge). 
> 
> [Obi-Wan’s visor](https://i.imgur.com/Ve8EHQC.jpg). it’s not what I based it on but it’s a good reference to what I envisioned. (Please let me know if the link doesn't work!)
> 
> And it is a speeder _bike_ but most times I will probably refer to it as just a speeder.
> 
> Translations:  
> Mand'alor - sole ruler, leader of the Mandalorian people  
> Mando'a - the Mandalorian language  
> tiingilar - an intensely spicy Mandalorian stew/casserole  
> beskar'gam - armor made of beskar  
> beskar - Mandalorian armor


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This one irritates me.

Tatooine was as dusty, hot, and uncomfortable as the last time Obi-Wan was planet-side. Even though he never strayed away from the Queen’s ship, he still got to bear witness to the natural elements the planet presented and wasn’t impressed then and still wasn’t. The only impressive thing about the planet was that people decided to live in it. Though, it _was_ a miserable planet and on the Outer Rim so the downsides probably were accepted if that meant illegal activities could still take place. 

His view of the planet was no different sitting behind Jango on the speeder, his hands awkwardly resting on the thick utility belt around Jango’s waist and his legs delicately squeezing the sides of the speeder (since he didn’t have the stirrups to put his feet in). With the wind whipping past them, Obi-Wan did his best to stay sheltered behind Jango’s armored form. If anything, his view of the planet was worse because now he was traveling away from their only safe transport on the planet. At least last time, he got to stay with the vessel while Qui-Gon ventured out. 

And when they neared the town? Obi-Wan decided he should stop thinking he’d be impressed positively when they reached it. 

Mos Doba was a scrappy little town. It was located at the mouth of a canyon and was surrounded by a ten-foot-tall wall made of sandy bricks but the lack of guards or a gate didn’t keep them out. If anything, it looked abandoned on the outside. No one patrolled the walls and, looking through the entrance, there was no activity inside. It wasn’t until they got inside there was some activity but it still looked a lot like a ghost town. 

Most of the buildings seemed to be made out of the same material as the wall. Homes seemed small and short, dug into the ground, and larger buildings were flat and also short. There was clearly a designated ‘square’ of the town, and that’s where the children were playing. No adults were around to watch them and they seemed to mind their own business, being careful to stay way out of Jango’s way, watching them with curious and frightened eyes. Jango glanced at them but paid them no more mind. 

They pulled up outside what Obi-Wan had to guess was the cantina. They climbed off the speeder, Jango shut it off and locked it. He opened up one of the side compartments, grabbed something, then locked it up, too. When he turned back to Obi-Wan, he had a silver and blue piece of fabric in his hand that matched his armor and suit beneath it. He held it out to Obi-Wan. 

“You’ll want to wear this for the sand. Or to hide the rest of your face, if that suits your mood,” he said. 

Obi-Wan took the fabric. He recognized it as a neck gaiter. The silver and blue were mixed tastefully on the fabric so it was appealing to the eye. It was also sturdy and breathable and clearly loved and worn judging by the little repaired spots that weren’t smoothly blended together. 

He fit it over his head, letting it pool around his neck so he could gather it evenly, and smiled at Jango before pulling it over his mouth. “Thank you!” 

They entered the cantina after a quick once-over of their things. Jango was checking the speeder and his equipment. Obi-Wan was watching the children play by the houses; in the shade and out of the way. His rifle was secured to his back, the strap crossing his chest, but it didn’t hurt to keep an eye out for child stragglers, especially if one just happened to have a sharp enough tool to cut fabric and leather. 

Jango glanced over Obi-Wan then led the way inside. 

The cantina was dark, only lit by little slits near the tops of walls and little yellow lanterns on each of the tables. It had to be the busiest place in Mos Doba. Quite a few of the tables were occupied and servers walked around. The bar in the center of the main room had several bartenders making drinks and plenty of patrons standing around and drinking. There was a stage along a wall but it was currently abandoned, though the room was full of chatter and music coming from somewhere. It was around midday for Tatooine and everyone decided to get started early? 

Jango, undeterred, walked through the cantina like he already knew where to go. Obi-Wan followed him to the bar, where a female sandy-colored Besalisk was serving drinks. She looked at the Mandalorian, appearing momentarily startled until she started to glare. 

“Is there a bounty poster here?” Jango asked casually. 

The Besalisk looked behind Jango, at Obi-Wan, before looking at the man in front again. She motioned to a small doorway to the side. 

“Cause trouble and you’ll get kicked out, at the very least,” she threatened. 

Jango ignored her as he turned to head for the room. Obi-Wan nodded to the Besalisk before following his mentor. 

The little side room led them a bit deeper underground. It was darker than the main part of the cantina but thankfully a bit less populated. A few people sat at tables, drinking and playing card games. There was a Rodian at the end of the room, standing between two large flatscreens on the wall. The two men approached. 

The Rodian looked at them expectantly and tilted their head. 

“We’re looking for more information about the bounty on a Mirialan that goes by the name Yaben,” Jango said. 

The Rodian nodded. They turned to look at one of the screens then turned back to the bounty hunters. 

“It’s just your luck. The one who put the bounty out is actually here. Over at that table, the one in the white suit…” There was some scorn in the Rodian’s voice. 

This time, Jango actually nodded in thanks. He led the way over to the table, taking a seat and surprising the person so badly he just about threw his bright drink. Obi-Wan was entertained but he could feel some of Jango’s displeasure through the Force. 

The contractor was a spindly human man dressed in some sort of white suit that made him look like he had a royal position. He looked deeply uncomfortable in his current setting, even more so after getting frightened. 

“Oh! Hello!” he gasped, holding his drink tightly to his chest. 

“We’re here for the bounty on Yaben,” Jango explained, sounding tired. 

“Oh, yes! I’m Percival… what would you like to know?” 

Jango motioned to Obi-Wan beside him. 

Back when they were on Outland and Jango was teaching Obi-Wan about researching, they went through lists of questions to ask when learning about a target (they also went through researching geography but that wasn’t as important at the moment). Jango also mentioned when they would be planet-side, Obi-Wan would get opportunities to flex what he learned. It appeared one of those times was now. 

“Why is there a bounty on Yaben? Other than the fact that he’s a spice runner, I mean,” Obi-Wan asked. 

Percival itched the back of his head nervously. “He uh… Well, he worked for Jabba for a bit until he may or may not have stolen some credits that definitely did not belong to him. And he may or may not have disgraced his father’s name by working for Jabba in the first place and further disgraced it by becoming a spice runner…” 

“So his father placed a bounty on him?” It was Jango’s turn to ask the question but he asked more out of surprise. 

“No, his father is dead. His death was the reason Yaben fled. His mother placed the bounty on him.” The man spoke confidently like it wasn’t abnormal to place a bounty on your own child’s head. “No payment at all if he is brought in dead. Mother’s orders.” 

It sounded like a whole tangle that screamed of political drama, specifically stunts. Jabba didn’t have the most legal track record, and Yaben’s mother being the one to order the contract really tied it all off. Jabba and Yaben’s mother probably weren’t working together but her ordering the bounty sounded like a way to get on Jabba’s good side so they could potentially do business in the future. Or, if knowledge of the contract’s giver wasn’t widely known, Yaben’s mother could earn support from legal teams against Jabba. She probably wouldn’t be able to move against him but she’d be off the hook—if she’d be able to get away with it. 

“What can you tell us about his whereabouts?” Obi-Wan continued. 

“Yaben will be in this area for at least another week. It’s good to see laziness still runs in his blood.” Percival sighed dramatically and took a sip of his drink. After setting it down, he wiggled his fingers and set his hands on the table in front of himself in a picture of poise. “Yaben and his thugs made their camp past the mouth of the canyon where it is rightfully named Smuggler’s Canyon. He seems to be there most days. A few of his men came into town a few times—according to the locals—and he himself has come in for some drinks a few times.” 

“What about his entourage?” 

“He should have about ten others with him? I’m sorry, this information was harder to come by. I can tell you he at least has ten men but no more than fifteen. Oh, and, he has a bodyguard, but I don’t know the species.” 

“Why would the species matter?” 

Jango put his hand on Obi-Wan’s arm suddenly. He spoke to Percival, “My student is new to the business. Pardon us.” They didn’t get up from their seats but Jango lowered his voice and turned his body more toward Obi-Wan. “Species matters because, if Yaben got his hands on a bodyguard with a natural exoskeleton, we could be in trouble.” He patted Obi-Wan’s arm again and turned back to Percival. 

That… made sense, when Obi-Wan thought about it. He was raised on politics and peacekeeping, not bounty hunting and keeping track of species and their traits. Exoskeletons didn’t sound like something they wanted to deal with. Jango didn’t seem mad at him for his question. After all, they didn’t get to that part in their training. But he also didn’t seem happy about it and has been hard to read ever since they entered Mos Doba. 

Jango continued with their questions while Obi-Wan thought to himself. “When does Yaben return to his camp when he goes out for drinks?” 

“The people here say he leaves at midnight. Doubt he takes very long to get back to his camp. And whenever any of them come to town, they never come before midday.” 

“And his camp’s fortifications? What kind of weapons do they have?” 

Percival blinked. “It’s a camp in the canyon, I’m sure they aren’t _great_ defenses. And they have blasters? From pistols to probably rifles.” 

It wasn’t good information, and they all knew that, but what were they expecting by asking a nobleman? He had given them good information so far but it was things he learned from others or prior knowledge. Asking for known weapons and camp layout was probably a bit much. There wasn’t much more they needed to know. 

“Are you staying in Mos Doba?” Obi-Wan asked. It would be good to know, so if they needed to get more information. 

Percival looked excited and raised his glass. “I am! The inn here isn’t that great but my orders tell me to stay until the bounty is completed.” He gulped it down then slammed the glass onto the table. “You two should get some drinks and sit down with me! Yaben will still be planet-side when we’re done.” 

Jango stood suddenly. “No, we’re here for the job.” 

Obi-Wan followed smoothly. He smiled beneath the fabric over his face but was sure it could be heard in his voice. “But thank you for the information. We’ll see you again when we have Yaben.” 

They left the cantina, re-emerging into the dry, Tatooine air. Their speeder was still there, and since it wasn’t busy, they stood around it. 

“What’s the plan?” Obi-Wan asked. 

Jango reached into one of the storage compartments and pulled out a datapad. He began typing on it as he spoke, “We head up the plateau until we find the encampment. We’ll scout when it’s dark.” 

If Yaben came by for drinks then his encampment shouldn’t be too deep into the canyon. By approaching on the plateau, their main problem would be approaching undetected. They would be a decent amount of distance from the canyon’s bottom but their speeder wasn’t the most silent and Yaben could be smart enough to put a guard up top to watch. 

“When do we leave?” 

Jango had a topographical map of the area pulled up on his datapad. He was doing some math on the side of the screen instead of answering. After typing out several things and deciding it was good enough, he put the datapad back into the storage compartment. 

“Now.” He climbed onto the speeder, starting it up. It lifted off the ground and made a few beeps as it settled. “We can't risk sticking around if Yaben sometimes comes around for drinks before nightfall.” Then, he turned to the other man and stuck out a hand to help mount the bike. 

Obi-Wan was thankful for the borrowed neck gaiter and his visor or else his emotions would be on full display. That wouldn’t be a bad thing if he didn’t get so many mixed messages from Jango. One moment he’s aiming to take Obi-Wan’s head off and the next he is willing to sit down over a cup of tea and chat about fighting styles. His demeanor in the cantina was a front but on _Jaster’s Legacy_ earlier he acted exasperated by just being near Obi-Wan. Meanwhile, all Obi-Wan tried to be as nice and respectful as possible. 

Grabbing onto the beskar-armored forearm, he accepted the assistance onto the seat behind Jango and settled in the same position as before—though this time with a bit warmer cheeks. 

Jango drove the speeder out of Mos Doba and toward the canyon. They stopped at the mouth of the canyon to check the map momentarily but then drove up the side of the canyon to reach the plateau. 

Obi-Wan, admittingly, tightened his grip on Jango’s waist when they were going over particularly uneven terrain (but who could blame him when the bike was nearly completely sideways and squeezing his legs as tightly as possible would only work until he’d be upside-down?). Thankfully, Jango didn’t scold him or comment on it. 

The suns were setting when they located Yaben’s camp. The camp was situated at a point where Smuggler’s Canyon forked off into little, separate passages before meeting back where the canyon was even wider. Tents and crates littered the space in the canyon below. There were no guards on the plateau but the sides of the canyon made it easy enough to get up top. 

Jango stopped and hid the speeder behind some rocks, well-hidden so if anyone came up the rock formation, it wouldn’t be seen. 

They settled near the top of the rock formation, sheltered by some nearby rocks. It was an excellent position. They were able to see a lot of the camp, except for what was right underneath them. Something was clearly right below them because most of the camp activity was there. Jango agreed to cross the canyon where it split in multiple places when it was dark to get the rest of the picture. 

So they settled in and waited. Jango went back to the speeder for a pair of binoculars while Obi-Wan stayed by their chosen spot to prepare his rifle. There wasn’t much to prepare, though. He just had to take it off his back, take the lens covers off, and get situated (situated, as in, lay prone at the edge so his aim was steady). 

Obi-Wan watched through his scope, the safety on and his finger off the trigger. He distantly listened to Jango move around but most of his attention was on the activity below. Yaben was easily spotted, his pink skin easy to spot among human skin and the fur of one Zygerrian. A total of eleven below. Though, Obi-Wan was unsure of who was the bodyguard. None of Yaben’s entourage was big enough to pose a threat like they originally thought. It made Obi-Wan worry his lip as he watched them because the bodyguard was either somewhere else or possibly down at the bottom of the canyon where they couldn’t see. 

Jango was at Obi-Wan’s side without any warning, startling the younger man. Obi-Wan could feel his amusement through the Force. “I’m going to locate a point I can cross. I’ll com you when I cross.” 

“Got it,” Obi-Wan murmured as he looked down his scope again. 

Things settled down in the camp as it got darker. Jango had sent a quiet message when he began to cross and another when he was on the other side. Then it was quiet for a time. Obi-Wan was unnerved as he watched the camp, unable to do anything. People were on guard and Yaben was out in the open freely chatting with several others. Obi-Wan could pull the trigger now (metaphorically. But he wouldn’t dare to because Jango drilled it into his head that targets are worth more alive). 

Jango sent another com when he was returning. Obi-Wan could see where he was when he was jumping the canyon, thanks to his jetpack, but it didn’t alert anyone down below. If anything, everyone below seemed too inebriated to notice. 

Obi-Wan set aside his rifle and backed away from the edge when Jango rejoined him. Jango sat himself down heavily beside him. 

“There is a little cave below us, doesn’t look too deep but it’s deep enough to hide in. All of their vehicles are stored in the small canyon passages,” he reported. “If I jump down there as you start shooting, I can cut them off from their vehicles and it should be enough time for you to join me before everyone is shooting.” 

Obi-Wan blinked at Jango. Jango was an individualist, Obi-Wan had come to memorize that through their training, so him outright including Obi-Wan in the attack was great news. It took a lot of berating from Roz to get the Mandalorian to accept Obi-Wan as his student so this was extremely positive. It was progression Obi-Wan wasn’t expecting to see so soon. 

Jango looked at Obi-Wan after having not received a response. “This is where you’re allowed to propose anything else. Or disagree, if you think my plan is so horrible.” 

Yes, Obi-Wan was blown away now. 

Gathering himself, Obi-Wan quickly shook his head. “No, I think it is a great plan.”

“Good, start shooting once I jump. Avoid harming Yaben, only shoot his feet or hands if you have to.” They both knew Obi-Wan was skilled enough to hit targets that small and precise so that’s why Jango suggested it. 

Obi-Wan really had to reassess how he thought of Jango. He nodded wordlessly. 

While Jango headed to where he was going to jump down, Obi-Wan crept forward so he could aim down into the canyon again. Jango waited until he was settled before jumping. Obi-Wan waited until Jango was almost to the ground before firing the first shot to announce their presence. He focused on the Zygerrian, only taking one shot and watching their lifeless body tumble to the ground. 

Chaos erupted after that, especially when Jango was on the ground and his WESTAR-34 blasters were firing. Obi-Wan threw the rifle’s shoulder strap over his head and did his best to get down the canyon quickly without use of the Force. He could’ve jumped over the edge and landed like Jango, using the Force to assist him instead of a jetpack, but not without revealing himself. 

He stumbled down next to Jango, pulling his blaster pistol out and firing at the smugglers. 

“I took the Zygerrian out,” Obi-Wan alerted him, “now all we have to deal with is humans and a potential bodyguard.” 

Jango dragged them behind some of the crates. “The bodyguard might not be around, I didn’t see anyone in the cave, but be alert.” 

“Of course.” 

They moved forward with little issues. To their luck, Yaben wasn’t really participating in the battle. He was sprawled behind the others with a blaster in his hand but unable to take a stand and fire back with steady hands. The others were more aware, some because they never had any alcohol, but they were all firing back. Jango and Obi-Wan had little to no problems. Their armor, especially Jango’s, deflected the blaster bolts effortlessly, and Yaben’s goons didn’t have the necessary firepower to knock their armor off. 

Soon, ten became eight, eight became five, five became two, then two became one. 

Yaben was the only one left. He was blinking wildly, on his feet and staring at his ‘guests’. He snarled then started to take off running toward the exit. But he didn’t get very far. Jango propelled himself forward with his jetpack and tackled Yaben without a problem. Though Yaben was a bit slippery so Obi-Wan had to find the pocket on his mentor’s utility belt with the cuffs in them. 

“Kuzo! Kuzo!” Yaben chanted as Jango and Obi-Wan switched places. Jango handed over the stun cuffs before he took a few steps away to inspect the bodies of who they killed. Then Yaben was just screaming to make noise and continued to thrash to make Obi-Wan’s job of cuffing harder. And to make matters worse, Obi-Wan thought he could detect and hear with the Force something approaching them. 

Obi-Wan felt the Force vibrating in a warning. He glanced over and saw Jango distracted so he momentarily advanced his strength with the Force to finish getting the cuffs on Yaben’s wrists and ankles. He was getting up and beginning to turn when dark brown fur clouded his vision. Something closed around his shoulder and lifted him off the ground. He was off the ground for a few seconds (a few seconds that felt more like ten) until his back hit the wall of the canyon and all the air was driven from his chest. 

He didn’t know what he thought was more terrifying; the fact that he appeared to be between the jaws of a beast or the fact that his feet still weren’t on the ground. 

“Jang—!” Obi-Wan started to call before the pressure was removed from his shoulder and a clawed hand was wrapped around his throat. He was greeted by the sight of a snarling, brown-furred Yuzzem. His hands went to his throat to grab at them but the Yuzzem’s grip was too strong. 

Obi-Wan kicked his legs wildly as he felt the claws dig into his skin. As a last resort, he reached for his falchion but the Yuzzem grabbed his wrist and squeezed it until it felt like it popped. Pain exploded, igniting through his hand and up his forearm. Obi-Wan let out a weak cry, unable to get enough air into his lungs to cry out properly, and dropped his falchion, cradling his arm to his chest. 

“Dral!” Jango finally responded. His WESTAR-34s started going off, almost sounding like an automatic weapon. 

The Yuzzem, Kuzo, according to Yaben, snarled, lifting Obi-Wan away from the wall and threw him toward the source of Jango’s voice. It has been a while since Obi-Wan has gotten handled like a child’s toy. But he accepted that and did his best to roll with the force. He tried to stop the momentum, making his wrist fire up in pain again. 

He laid in the dirt for a few moments, trying to gather his wits and dull the pain beginning to cloud his senses. Turning his head, he watched Jango fight Kuzo head-on. Yaben was still shrieking and shouting from his place on the ground. Jango was losing the upper hand, Kuzo was too strong. 

Obi-Wan fought through the pain. He pushed himself up to rest on his elbows, getting to a sitting position. Slowly, he carefully maneuvered the rifle off his back to be in his arms and did his best to take aim with only one hand. He reached out to the Force for bare assistance and slowed his breathing to steady his aim. He grunted, a sound sure to draw the attention of any animal. And it worked. Kuzo looked back at him, and he took the shot. 

Kuzo reeled back and crumpled to the ground, shot straight through the eye. Obi-Wan let his rifle fly out of his hands, in too much pain to try to stifle the kickback. And then… it was blissfully quiet in the canyon. Until Yaben realized Kuzo was dead and he started screaming bloody murder at the top of his lungs. 

Jango took a few seconds to assess what just happened. After looking down at Kuzo, his head turned to look at Obi-Wan. His feet carried him over and he dropped to his knees, immediately checking the younger man over, going as far to lower the neck gaiter to grab his chin and turn his head around to check for other wounds. 

“Jango, what—?” Obi-Wan started to ask. 

Jango pulled the neck gaiter _up_ to look at the damage there then looked down at the wrist Obi-Wan was favoring. 

“Not a bad shot,” he complimented. He pulled out a syringe of bacta and injected it right into the veins in Obi-Wan’s wrist. 

“Not a bad—? I did that one-handed!” 

Obi-Wan detected a smirk behind the T-shaped visor. Jango was _teasing_? He couldn’t believe his ears. 

“Yep.” Jango patted him on the shoulder and stood, binging Obi-Wan up with him. “Grab your rifle and start up the wall, I’ll get Yaben.” 

Obi-Wan followed that order. There was no way _he_ would be able to get Yaben up to the plateau. He and Jango parted ways. Yaben was sobbing uncontrollably as he was lifted over Jango’s shoulder. Obi-Wan watched as he grabbed his rifle and started to climb up the canyon. It was hard to climb with only one good hand, his other was throbbing against his chest. The formation of the rocks made it possible to climb but Jango eventually beat him to the top and when he got to the top himself he was breathless. 

Jango brought the speeder around with Yaben secured on the back. Obi-Wan deflated inwardly. It would be a tight fit on the scooter but at this point, he was too tired to care. 

Jango and Obi-Wan brought Yaben back to Mos Doba and handed him over to Percival to receive their reward. Yaben was a mess and it sounded like he wouldn’t be killed by his family as a punishment (Obi-Wan couldn’t tell how he felt about that). But they left Mos Doba to head back to _Jaster’s Legacy_ to return to Outland. 

After they got aboard, they took their armor off (Obi-Wan had to pry his damaged vambrace off) and ate some packaged food and drank pain-relieving _shig_ in the cockpit while they started their journey back to Outland Transit. 

Jango was leaning back in the pilot’s seat, his feet propped on the console in a spot he clearly always put his heels (judging by the discoloration of the spot). Obi-Wan was sitting in the co-pilot’s seat, carefully using the console as a table so he could eat. His wrist was either fractured or broken, but it was nothing some daily bacta injections and wrapping it couldn’t solve. His neck was scratched up and bruised so bacta patches practically covered his neck entirely. 

But all in all, it was relaxing. Jango rarely ever ‘let down his hair’ so much in front of Obi-Wan. It made him feel hopeful for their future partnership. 

“Ask your questions.” 

“Huh?” Obi-Wan blinked, pausing as he reached for his drink. 

“When we first met, I said you had to earn your questions if you wanted to ask them. You’ve earned some after your performance today, even if it was a bit rough.” Jango looked unbothered as he ate but Obi-Wan could feel he was a little uncomfortable through the Force. 

“Are you… sure?” 

“Why not?” The _Mand’alor_ shrugged. “I _try_ to keep my word.” 

How much should Obi-Wan let on? It didn’t take a genius to know about the True Mandalorians and their runaway _Mand’alor_ as long as you had basic knowledge of semi-recent Mandalorian history. Having been on Mandalore himself, he wasn’t sure how much _Dral_ knew since he was from a secret society. Or he could go the emotional route and demand answers as to why Jango was so insistent on giving him the cold shoulder. 

He had a feeling he may get his emotional questions answered the longer he stuck around. 

“You’re… _Mand’alor_ so why aren’t you with your True Mandalorians? They’re still loyal, aren’t they?” Obi-Wan asked. “Why be a bounty hunter?” 

Yep, Jango was truly uncomfortable and definitely bothered now. He looked at Obi-Wan with a slight frown, squinting his eyes, then looked down at his food. 

“My title was denounced by the current leader of Mandalore, even though I’m the rightful leader. As for the True Mandalorians… they’re still Mandalorians, whether they’re with me or doing mercenary work or bounty hunting.” Jango shook his head. “The True Mandalorians are loyal to who they believe is _Mand’alor_.” 

“But are they loyal to _you_?”

Jango, more or less, glared at him. He thought he wasn’t going to get an answer until Jango sighed, looked at the console, spoke, “They are loyal to who they believe is _Mand’alor_. But there are some who are specifically loyal to me.” 

“What caused you to be denounced?” 

Obi-Wan already knew why, but he wanted to hear the event in Jango’s words and thoughts. It never should have happened. It was an event full of lies and miscommunications. The Jedi acted wrongfully and the True Mandalorians paid the price for it. Obi-Wan wished it never happened, the True Mandalorians and Jango didn’t deserve it, and the Jedi should’ve looked into the order before acting. 

Jango looked pissed. “Are you asking about the Battle of Galidraan? Because if so, I get to ask you some questions.” 

“That’s mostly fine.” 

“We were called in by the governor of Galidraan to deal with rebels causing issues. So we did that, and he betrayed us by telling the _jetiise_ lies which then caused the _jetiise_ to fight us. My Mandalorians were slaughtered, I hear very few of them escaped alive. I killed six _j_ _etii_ with my bare hands before I fell. And you know what happened? They captured me and handed me over to the governor, where he then sold me into slavery. And you know what? The _Kyr’tsad_ was behind it all.” Jango’s voice was venomous and passionate. Obi-Wan felt for him. 

Obi-Wan spoke into his bowl solemnly. “I’m… sorry to hear. I can’t imagine how that feels.” He didn’t know what it felt like to lose your people by slaughter but he had some ideas about slavery. 

“Like death, except you were spared the part where you’re released from the pain.” Jango stood suddenly, bowl and mug in hand. “I’m reserving my questions for another day.” Then started to stalk off. 

Obi-Wan reached out with his good hand and managed to grab Jango’s closest wrist. The man froze in his tracks and eyed his student with a ghostly glare. Obi-Wan made sure to look at him with all of the empathy he could muster. Maybe he saw something cross Jango’s face, and if he did, then it was something fleeting and something he couldn’t discern. 

“I can’t _exactly_ relate with the feeling of your entire force getting decimated, but I know what it feels like to have no hope and to rely on only yourself. You aren’t alone anymore.” 

Jango’s lip curled. He pulled himself free from Obi-Wan’s loose grip and finished stalking out of the cockpit. “Goodnight…” 

Obi-Wan was left alone in the silent cockpit, his food forgotten. He stared at the stars rushing past, beginning to feel cold. They both needed sleep. And maybe it was the best if he and Jango didn’t get too close, it would definitely make it easier for them to part ways and do their own work again. 

He finished his food and grabbed his bowl and cup and threw them in the sink. He couldn’t wash them with his bum wrist, he hoped Jango understood that. The said man was in the ‘fresher, which was fine. Obi-Wan wasn’t planning on getting a shower until the next day when he had to replace his bandages and bacta patches. Instead, Obi-Wan changed into his sleep clothes and carefully got into his bed. It didn’t take long for him to be pulled under. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Mos Doba is technically canon. However, it is in a mobile strategy game so... I’d say the layout is up for interpretation. 
> 
> And fair warning, I don’t know when the next chapter will be out. I usually have to wrap up projects in June and my deadlines are coming up. Plus, my roadmap for this fic had to go under a bit of construction so that’s an additional little setback. I can't imagine the wait being long (honestly maybe a two-week wait) but I like to have a schedule. 
> 
> Translations:  
> shig - Mandalorian tea  
> Mand'alor - sole ruler, leader of the Mandalorian people  
> Kyr’tsad - Death Watch (Death Society, a breakaway Mandalorian sect)  
> jetii - Jedi  
> jetiise - plural form of Jedi


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Was gonna post this last week or the week before but I got a bit busier than I thought I would. Whoops!

Roz was overjoyed to see the two men return. She fluttered around them as they disembarked _Jaster’s Legacy_ and talked about an upcoming pit fight they could all go watch. Then her eyes fell on Obi-Wan’s wrapped wrist. She started doting over him and scolded Jango for not watching him better. Jango didn’t take her seriously, judging by the comfortable smirk on his face, and murmured apologies and assurances that it won’t happen again. Obi-Wan didn’t care. It just warmed Obi-Wan’s heart to hear the familial bickering. 

After the ship was unloaded, Roz took the two men to the announcer’s box above the pit to watch a rancor tournament. All three sat in an easy row to look out the window. Obi-Wan was dressed down in his normal long-sleeve, pants, and vest look but Jango was fully armored up in case Roz needed him to leap into action. Though, the event went by smoothly so Jango sat with them the entire time. 

Obi-Wan wasn’t sure how he felt about the tournament. He didn’t like the idea of forcing creatures to fight to the death just for their entertainment, no matter how rabid or nasty the creature was out in the wild. A rancor, or any other creature for that matter, didn’t deserve it. Obi-Wan kept his thoughts to himself, however, and tried to enjoy the event as best as he could. Roz's banter and Jango's few comments about the fight made up for it slightly. 

On their way back to their private quarters, they stopped for some more traditional Mandalorian food. It was as spicy as ever yet enjoyable. It probably wouldn’t become a staple in their daily schedules. 

With Obi-Wan’s bum wrist, they were unable to do their nightly spar, so after the final meal of the day, they split ways for the rest of the night. Obi-Wan administered a bacta injection before his shower (thankfully the injections meant he was able to stop wearing the patches). After his shower, he did some meditating, then went to bed. 

* * *

_It was pitch black all around yet it was still possible to see his hands as if there was normal light somewhere. Solid ground was beneath his feet. There was a soft noise, like movement, behind. Then, like a swift strike, there was a high-pitched whine. Blazing heat grazed his back. The scent of burning fabric filled the air._

_Obi-Wan spun around. His eyes landed on a weapon none other than the Darksaber. He couldn’t see who was wielding the weapon. But that wasn’t the only thing off. He was wearing Jedi robes again, and he had the traditional Padawan rattail and braid._

_The Darksaber wielder let out a snarl and leaped toward him. Obi-Wan stepped out of the way, automatically reaching for the lightsaber on his belt but nothing was there. The Darksaber swung his way again so he stepped out of the way again._

_“Obi-Wan…” a familiar voice groaned. It was full of pain and something he never wanted to hear again. His heart clenched in response, he wanted to double over after hearing the voice he thought (and maybe even hoped) he’d forgotten._

_“M-master?” Obi-Wan breathed. His movements stuttered._

_The Darksaber wielder lunged toward him. He allowed them to get closer so he could grab the hilt and see his attacker. The dark blade hummed next to his face as the appearance none other than the Sith from Naboo manifested._

_“Kenobi!” he snarled. The Zabrak’s hatred radiated off him in waves. It was just like when they fought on Naboo. Amazing how well he was replicated._ _“You’re weak! What happened to the lost Padawan I fought on Naboo?”_

_Well, he wasn’t a Padawan anymore. That would be the snarky answer. He was no longer on the path to becoming the great Jedi Qui-Gon hoped. But he was dreaming, so shouldn’t the Sith know that? Though he did suppose that if he was in denial then now was the time to confront himself and change that._

_“Cute…” the Zabrak growled. He pushed forward then pulled back suddenly so he could pull the weapon free from Obi-Wan. “You Jedi are so naive.”_

_“I am no longer a Jedi.”_

_“You don’t deny the naivety.”_

_They were beginning to walk in a slow circle around each other. The Sith twirled the Darksaber occasionally, causing it to whir and hum in its signature high-pitched trademark. His golden eyes bore through Obi-Wan with the same hatred he gave off on Naboo. It was sad how the Sith couldn’t even be peaceful in death._

_“I don’t deny naivety because I know there are things I didn’t learn before I left,” Obi-Wan explained calmly._

_The Zabrak sneered with contempt. “Such a Jedi answer. I can feel your emotions. I could_ taste _your emotions on Naboo. You were never meant to be a Jedi. My Master could have done something with you, still probably could if you ran the right way.” He stopped suddenly, causing Obi-Wan to mirror him. “What little secrets did you hide from your precious Order? How tight of a leash did they keep on you? There’s no way they’d let you go easily.”_

_“I left before they decided what they wanted of me,” Obi-Wan replied coldly._

_“What would Kencha say? Didn’t he have high hopes for you?”_

_Obi-Wan felt the rage under his skin flare. He clenched his fists as he saw a pleased look cross the Zabrak’s face._

_“Don’t say his name.” His words were quiet and sharp. A clear warning to anyone who could hear._

_“Kencha? You don’t want me to say his name? Can’t stand to remember how you failed him?”_

_Obi-Wan lurched forward with a speed that comes with being attuned with the Force. The Sith saw it coming but he didn’t move and accepted it when the Darksaber was wrestled from his hands and the blade was at his neck. Instead, he raised an eyebrow and didn’t look impressed at all. He showed his yellowed teeth in a snarl._

_“Look behind you.”_

_Obi-Wan spun around, Darksaber poised in front to defend himself. And standing there a few feet away was Kencha Grisarv. Everything about the Kiffar was off. His sad grey eyes stared through the former Jedi, his dark skin was too pale and the orange markings of his family he wore on his face looked duller than ever. His hair was pulled back away from his face and up off his shoulders. He wore the robes that matched the ones on his final day. The robes that were burnt, stained with blood, and torn apart by blaster bolts._

_Obi-Wan was left feeling hollow in an instant. All the rage left him, leaving nothing but sadness and a haunting chill behind. He didn't stop dreaming of Kencha after Qui-Gon finally accepted Obi-Wan as his Padawan, but he did eventually. His appearance_ now _was unjustified and revealed how little Obi-Wan actually healed from the ordeal._

_“I’m disappointed in you.” The voice sounded like Kencha, but also like the Sith at the same time. Obi-Wan fell to his knees as Kencha continued to stare straight ahead._

_“Master, I-I’m sorry.” What else should he say? His words were failing him. They never got to say a proper goodbye and, at the time, they were both sure Kencha was going to die. And he did, so what good was even apologizing? Their mission was a catastrophic failure._

_“_ Are _you?” the Sith spat. He approached slowly, his footsteps echoing around them loudly. “You left him to die, and in vain. Squandered your opportunity to escape…”_

_Obi-Wan wailed. He gripped the Darksaber and spun around on his knees to throw the blade at the Zabrak. The Zabrak just grinned at him before the ‘saber went through him, causing his form to dissipate. Though, the Darksaber stopped mid-air, deactivated, and fell to the floor. He watched it, too afraid to turn back around. But against his better judgment, he reached out to summon the Darksaber to his hand then turned around._

_He shouldn’t have. Standing next to Kencha was Jango, clad in his armor (minus his helmet), and next to him was Roz. They both stared ahead blankly, hardly looking like themselves. But that wasn’t the worst part. Jango had a clean, deadly burn that went all the way around his neck, and Roz was beaten and bloodied up. And as Obi-Wan’s breath started to shutter, the Zabrak appeared again, walking out from behind Jango. He held out his hand and summoned the Darksaber, ripping it from Obi-Wan’s grasp to ignite it and hold at Jango’s neck._

_“Don’t,” Obi-Wan growled as best he could, but his voice was wavering too much and he sounded on the verge of tears. He had to look down to blink so if any did fall, they wouldn’t be seen._

_“Jedi aren’t supposed to have attachments. You see these two as your family?” the Zabrak scoffed. “The Mandalorian would kill you if he found out your true identity and the Toydarian wouldn’t actually be able to calm him down. Mandalorians are just attack-hounds, anyway. This one just happens to not have a leash.”_

_Inky vines sprouted from the floor and started to wrap around Obi-Wan’s limbs. He tugged against them but didn’t fight them outright to keep his attention on the Sith. That was a mistake, it seemed. The Sith’s next action was to plunge the Darksaber through Roz’s gut. She grunted, an odd sound that didn’t seem to match her voice, but she continued to flutter in her spot._

_“They don’t care about you. You’re just a little urchin Qui-Gon passed on. Roz is just going to use you for her dirty work.” The Zabrak pouted playfully as he walked between Jango and Roz. “Qui-Gon is_ so _relieved by your absence, by the way.”_

_Obi-Wan’s hands were shaking. His anger and grief were mounting. He fought against his restraints._

_“Jango thinks you’re pathetic. He pities you, really.” The Darksaber was at Jango’s neck again, right where the burn was. Obi-Wan struggled harder. “He thinks you’re a worthless student and a waste of space…” Obi-Wan’s heart was pounding in his ears as he grabbed ahold of his emotions. His anger was starting to prevail. He had to work with it. “You’re a lost cause.”_

_The Darksaber sizzled against the wound on Jango’s neck. Obi-Wan had to stop listening so he could summon all of the strength he could to get free. The vines released his arms first so he reached out to Force choke the Zabrak. At first, the Zabrak froze on instinct, but he soon gathered enough of his wits to finish allowing the blade to go through Jango’s neck. Jango’s head stayed in the same place and he looked unaffected, but Obi-Wan felt deeply unsettled as he got to his feet._

_As the Force choke tightened, the Zabrak turned hysteric. “Yes! Here is the Padawan I fought! You’re even more fiery than before! If my Master got his hands on you…”_

_“Your Master won’t be getting his hands on me!” Obi-Wan shouted. He kept tightening his telekinetic hold on the Zabrak’s neck. “I’ve escaped the Order! He’ll have to search to the ends of the galaxy if he wishes to find me!”_

_Despite the life leaving his eyes, the Zabrak smirked and looked undaunted. “He’ll take those challenges. I do, too. You’ll be seeing me again, Kenobi.”_

_Obi-Wan felt ice in his veins as he finished choking the life out of the Sith. He stepped back as the Zabrak’s body hit the ground, followed by Kencha, Jango, and Roz._

* * *

Obi-Wan’s senses were awake before he was. They screamed at him in his head, sure of what was going on around him. So he woke with a start, grabbing his falchion like it was his second instinct, and held it to the throat of the intruder he could detect. He may have just woken from a nightmare but he was positive. 

It turned out to be Jango, and he was standing at the foot of the bed looking unsure and partially alarmed. The sharp point of a weapon _was_ almost touching his Adam's apple. His neck was normal, with no burns or marks from a lightsaber. Obi-Wan calmed himself down, lowering his arm to drop the blade on his bed so he could rub at his eyes with shaking hands. 

“Sorry, I didn’t mean—” he started. 

“Roz sent me in because she was worried. You overslept,” Jango interrupted. Obi-Wan looked at the clock on the dresser. He slept an hour over his usual time. Not something major Roz should worry about but Obi-Wan was always punctual so he didn’t blame her. “Breakfast is ready. Come eat then you can clean up.” 

Obi-Wan hesitated as he swung his legs over the edge of the bed and watched Jango pull the curtain aside to leave. The Mandalorian turned and looked back at him expectantly. 

“Yes, _now_ ,” Jango huffed. He looked at the curtains to distract himself. “Can’t believe you’re choosing these over real walls…” 

“They’re comfortable and they don’t cut the room off abruptly. Plus, I’m accustomed to living in a one-room apartment,” Obi-Wan explained as he began to follow Jango. 

Jango looked over a shoulder at him critically. Obi-Wan felt nervous suddenly about having Jango in his room. He was a respectable man and didn’t seem the type to snoop but Obi-Wan had to be alert no matter what. His vest had been sitting on top of his dresser and his lightsabers in it. Jango could’ve snooped all he liked when Obi-Wan was asleep. 

“They’re annoying.” 

“Well, I think they’re nice.” 

Obi-Wan detected Jango’s amusement through the Force. Good. He was unsuspecting of anything that he could perceive as odd. 

At breakfast, it was announced that their next stop was Coruscant. Jango didn’t sound thrilled when he spoke, but they had to go for a custom part for _Jaster’s Legacy_ and Roz ordered some parts for whatever she needed them for. Additionally, it sounded like they would do some jobs while they were there, so Obi-Wan could learn how to pick up work without Roz’s help (because eventually she will eventually charge the boys for her services. Jango previously had to pay for some of his jobs before he started teaching Obi-Wan). 

Obi-Wan felt like how Jango sounded; unenthusiastic. Coruscant was the last place he wanted to visit. It put the identity of Dral Khor at risk because Jedi were guaranteed to be there (which was probably the reason why Jango sounded like he didn’t want to go). Coruscant was big; big enough so Obi-Wan may not actually be found out, but it doesn’t hurt to be wary. He knew the tricks of flying under a Jedi’s radar, but only if you were a Jedi. It could take just one of the wrong Jedi to recognize him and ruin everything he has been trying to build up. 

Though, the presence of Jedi depended on where they went on Coruscant. Obi-Wan knows the planet well, he can even navigate some of the Underworld (probably more than what Jango could say). If they were a decent distance away from the Temple, there were very little chances of actually coming into contact with a Jedi. But there was always a chance for things to go wrong. Obi-Wan just had to go over his story and make sure there were no cracks in it, think of scenarios if he were to get confronted. 

But Obi-Wan was quiet through breakfast, same as Jango—after he snapped at Roz for getting compared to a dog. It made for a semi-awkward meal but when they were getting up from their seats and cleaning up, Jango told Obi-Wan to go to his room and start packing his things. He didn’t know when they were leaving but he would retrieve Obi-Wan when he made a decision. 

So Obi-Wan calmly parted ways with the other two, but as soon as he was in his room and the door slid shut behind him, he scrambled through the curtains to his bedroom and dug out his datapad. He opened the messenger application and cringed upon seeing the ignored messages from Qui-Gon. 

Qui-Gon’s first message arrived on the first night cycle of Obi-Wan’s stay on Outland Transit. He was asking if Obi-Wan arrived safely and if he was settled properly and who his teacher was. The several messages that followed were similar to each other, asking if Obi-Wan was all right and how things were going. Obi-Wan felt guilty for ignoring his Master after he helped him leave. Qui-Gon could’ve let him deal with the Council himself, risking getting held back by them, and he would’ve had to find his own transport to leave and destination after he left. 

Obi-Wan hastily typed back a reply, detailing how he got settled the first night, adding that Jango Fett was his teacher. He mentioned that his training got off to a rough start but it was smoother now and he even completed his first bounty with Jango. He debated adding that he was already injured on his first job, it wasn’t that big of an ordeal, but he did just so Qui-Gon was informed. Then, before he sent it, he included that it sounded like he would be returning to Coruscant but with Jango. 

He began packing his things, the same as last time, when a reply came from Qui-Gon. He was glad things seemed to be going well for Obi-Wan, even with his teacher being _Mand’alor_. He mentioned Anakin’s teachings were going well and they were still on Coruscant because Anakin is not ready for any field or political work until a good while. At the end of his message, he mentioned that they may not meet on Coruscant for Obi-Wan’s safety but he thought it was good for Obi-Wan to get the chance to return home. 

It would be good as long as if they don’t pick up a bounty requiring them to eliminate a Jedi. Who knows what type of bounty Jango might pick up for them and who knows what type of bounties the people of Coruscant give out. They surely have better things to spend their money on than asking for Jedi to be captured, right? 

Putting that thought aside, Obi-Wan typed back a simple request before he got back to work. He asked if Qui-Gon could send over his crèche’s comcodes before he changed into his usual attire, vest included. 

Jango came by about an hour later. He was in his armor, _buy’ce_ tucked under an arm. He stayed in the doorway looking meticulously strained, carefully showing no and giving off no emotions. 

“We might as well leave as soon as possible. We can train on the ship. Spending a whole day waiting around to leave is a waste of time,” he said. He motioned to the hall with a jerk of his head. “Grab your things and say goodbye to Roz.” 

Abrupt but not entirely unexpected. To leave right away made sense. Training on the ship was doable and probably preferred by both men. It meant getting to Coruscant quicker… 

It wasn’t hard to pack things when there was little to pack. It was basically like emptying out a drawer. He tied his armor together and headed to _Jaster’s Legacy_ to put his things in his room. 

Roz and Jango were standing in the private lobby when he went back inside to see where they were. Jango looked at him with his head tilted. 

“I hope you weren’t trying to leave after I told you specifically to say goodbye to Roz.” 

“No, Jango. I just wanted to put my things on board,” Obi-Wan sighed as he approached. He smiled at Roz ruefully. “Well, goodbye Roz. I hope the station treats you well while we are gone.” 

Surprisingly, she fluttered forward to hug him. She had a tight grip but it wasn't something that could effectively hold him if he wanted to break out of it. She pulled back and grinned at him. “Oh, don’t you worry about me. Isn’t the first time, won’t be the last. You two just have fun on Coruscant. Don’t get captured by the law or Jedi while you’re there.” 

It was Jango’s turn to get a hug from the Toydarian. He accepted it without the awkwardness Obi-Wan expected. “The plan’s to not get caught by anyone, if it even would come to that. Just hold down the fort. We’ll be gone for two weeks at the least but back before you know it.” They pulled back at the same time in a smooth motion. 

“It’s safer than some of your other jobs so I guess I don’t need to worry too much.” Roz led the way to the hangar. “But I can’t help it. Trouble follows you like a shadow.” 

Jango motioned toward the boarding ramp so Obi-Wan started up it first while the Mandalorian continued talking to Roz. Obi-Wan threw a wave over his shoulder before entering _Jaster’s Legacy_. 

“Then I hope my second shadow is good at sniffing out trouble. See you later, Roz.” He finished climbing the ramp and shut it after him. 

They both settled in the cockpit, strapping into their seats. Jango flipped the necessary switches and turned the correct knobs to lift off. With practiced ease, he had them headed to Coruscant. 

* * *

It felt weird to be back on Coruscant. It was his home for years and then suddenly, just about a month ago, it became one of the last places he ever wanted to be. Nothing—considered to be normal of the planet—changed at all. But being back… It was like dark clouds were hanging over their heads and waiting to spill an ominous liquid instead of rain. Or maybe that’s just what Obi-Wan thought.

An odd, restless feeling settled in his gut. He couldn’t tell if he missed the planet or not. He _should_ , but it seemed leaving the system would calm him sooner than being even in the planet’s orbit. 

It was still night where they landed. They were a few miles from the Jedi Temple, a safe enough distance away (they couldn’t see it, yet Obi-Wan was thrumming with the same kind of energy he had when he would return from missions with Qui-Gon). Jango decided they would start their day when the sun was up. After all, they were located fairly centrally in one of the market districts, it wouldn’t take long to reach their destinations. 

Obi-Wan meditated and did maintenance on the rifle Jango assigned to him while they waited. He had to do anything to keep his mind off Coruscant, and since Jango was probably asleep in his cabin, Obi-Wan wouldn’t be bothered. So he worked on his rifle and meditated until the sun was starting to lighten the sky. Then, he made breakfast. There wasn’t a lot to work with but he was able to fry up some packaged bacon and eggs. And maybe it was the scent that woke him up but Jango came out of his room as soon as breakfast was made. 

They ate their food quickly. Jango complimented the quality of it before he gave Obi-Wan the order to get dressed and ready. Then he cleaned up with practiced ease before he went to his cabin to also get dressed. After they were each dressed—Obi-Wan decided to forgo his armor in favor of looking neutral, though he put on his neck gaiter and visor and hoped he didn’t look suspicious—they met up by the exit. Jango locked the ship behind them and led the way to the elevator. 

It was a short trip down. The elevator didn’t make any stops because it was probably too early for visitors to be beginning their adventures. 

They stepped into the Coruscant air and Jango was already on his datapad. It gave Obi-Wan the opportunity to get a quick look at their surroundings. Once he took in all that he could, he watched Jango. 

“The part for _Jaster’s Legacy_ is in a shop not too far. I’ll have to get the place with Roz’s parts to deliver them to the ship, though…” Jango murmured as he powered the datapad down and stuck it in one of his pouches. 

“Do I need to go with you for those?” 

Jango gave him a quizzical look through his helmet. “What else are you going to do?” 

Obi-Wan shrugged. “It’s a good opportunity for me to explore. Maybe I can find us a job? What if I have my own errands to run while we’re here? Would you stop me from going off on my own?” 

“Just keep your comlink close and don’t get into trouble.”

Obi-Wan gave him a mock salute as they parted ways. Jango was heading in a different direction so Obi-Wan was able to lower some of his guard. He was going to a nearby diner to meet his old friends. He has been planning it ever since it was announced of their trip to Coruscant, and he was able to start putting the plan into motion when Qui-Gon gave him their codes. It was a meeting that they weren't sure if it would actually come to fruition due to how unsure Obi-Wan was of Jango’s plans. 

The diner wasn’t a far walk from the hangar they were docked in. He didn’t know much about the place, Bant was the one who found it and assured him that the quality of food there would be good. And it looked friendly when he was able to locate it. He hoped Jango would still be busy with his errands and didn’t bother Obi-Wan while he was with his crèche. 

When he entered the diner, a quick glance around the room revealed the group of three in a corner booth. They all noticed him, each seeming to be filled with their own excitement. He slid into the booth, sitting next to Garen, before any of them could get up and cause a scene. He also pulled down his neck gaiter and removed his visor. 

“Good morning,” he greeted. 

Quinlan raised his eyebrows and lifted a steaming mug to his lips to drink. Bant let out a little noise and looked away. Garen rested his chin on his fist, leaning against the table and staring at Obi-Wan. He was the one that spoke for them, “Good morning.” 

Bant made another noise, letting her frustration be heard and letting it flow freely into the Force. “Yeah, _good morning_. Why am I not surprised that these are your first words to us since you decided to leave without saying goodbye to any of us?” 

“He’s a busy man, Bant,” Quinlan teased sharply when he finally set his mug down. His own irritation could be heard in his voice, however, and Obi-Wan realized he made a big mistake by not talking about his departure with his crèche. “You heard how fast he hightailed it outta here.” 

“I owe you all an explanation…” 

“Yeah!” came from Bant. 

“That’d be nice,” came from Garen. 

Quinlan shrugged. 

Obi-Wan sighed, rubbing his face with his hands (one gloved, he should note, to hide the wraps supporting his wrist. It was mostly for security so if he went after a target, they hopefully wouldn’t see the wraps and aim for the joint). “I used the dark side again, so I ran. It’s as simple as that.” 

“It’s not as simple as that,” Bant scolded with a shake of her head. “Word spread like a wildfire that your midi-chlorian count changed again. So would you like to change your answer?” 

“Not really. I thought it would be safer for everyone if I left. The Council was probably planning on holding me back if I didn’t leave when I did, so I went for it.” Bant looked the most disappointed, Quinlan and Garen were trying to hide their emotions (though Garen let some of his worry show). “What other choice did I have?” 

“There are several services the Jedi could’ve provided! The first thing they could’ve done is set you up for Soul Healer appointments!” 

“They never offered me a Soul Healer after I came back from Ryloth, why would they offer me one now?” Obi-Wan spat abruptly. The other three in the wrap-around booth watched him with dark eyes. “No, in fact, when I came back, they gave me a quick once-over then sent me off to the AgriCorps!” 

“Did you ever ask for a Soul Healer?” 

“I was _thirteen_! I shouldn’t’ve _had_ to ask! They should’ve assigned me appointments before sending me off to the AgriCorps or set something up within the AgriCorps! They could’ve let me recover and maybe that would have introduced me to a Master actually wanting a Padawan! Instead, they let me flounder through AgriCorps duties until Qui-Gon accepted me as his Padawan the first and second time, and even _then_ our relationship had an extremely tumultuous beginning because I had so much unresolved baggage.” 

Obi-Wan _never_ spoke poorly of the Order, so the venom that rose to the surface surprised him. He believed in what the Jedi taught and acknowledged the good they did for others, but he was able to see they failed him. When he returned from Ryloth, a year after Kencha’s death, he was a husk of his former self. He rarely spoke, rarely slept, had to force himself to eat, and reacted to anything as simple as a hairpin dropping. And the Order did nothing to help, the Council just sent him off to the AgriCorps where they had to deal with his declining health. 

His crèche looked at him warily. He was angry and his anger was bleeding into the Force. They were concerned… Of course, because negative emotions led to the dark side, and Obi-Wan, once an exceptional Padawan because he had to learn to keep a tight lid on his emotions, was letting his emotions free. Though it was safer to not feel anything, right? He never used the dark side until he let his emotions and feelings get in the way… 

He gathered his anger and stamped it down. It was still there, tight in his chest and still bright enough to burst out, but it wouldn’t do any of them good if he kept letting it spill out. And to think, he was the one who requested to meet because he wanted to clear things up and apologize for leaving abruptly. He was the one who had to defend his decision of leaving the Order because he said it would be safer for everyone if he left. By the way it looked, it probably would’ve been safer for everyone if he stayed. Staying meant keeping his emotions in check, and the Order would be able to keep an eye on one of their more volatile Jedi. 

Obi-Wan pinched the bridge of his nose briefly. “I’m sorry. Firstly, for letting my emotions run so rampant. I am able to be a bit freer with them since I left. And secondly, I’m sorry I left without a goodbye or any indication of my plans.” He dropped his hand and stared at the table. “I feel horrible thinking about any grief I may have caused.” 

Bant was the first to let her walls down, letting her compassion and warmth flood him through the Force. Her face also showed her sorrow, probably in memory of what she heard or went through after he left. 

Garen was the first to speak up, though. “I think we sometimes forget how much you had to fight to be a Padawan. You’ve always powered through everything, and… I think we don’t give you enough credit for that.” He smiled softly when Obi-Wan looked at him. 

“ _Yes_ ,” Bant agreed, her voice so calming and full of love. “You’re our brother, you would have to do a lot to get us to hate you. Sure, you’ve left the Order, but we will always be with you. We support your choice, as long as it makes you happy and means you’re semi-safe.” 

All eyes went to Quinlan. Just because Bant and Garen accepted Obi-Wan’s apology doesn’t mean he will. He was a bit unpredictable with his use of the Force, but didn’t cross the same line that Obi-Wan did. He was still a respectable Jedi, especially since he was able to use psychometry. Even though he had his own explosive tendencies, he was valuable to the Order and didn’t need his reputation tarnished by an ex-Jedi like Obi-Wan. Plus, growing up, Obi-Wan and Quinlan saw eye-to-eye less than Obi-Wan and Garen did. 

“The Council _did_ warn that you’ll be hunted down if they think you are a threat. Plenty of Jedi heard that but they even told us specifically,” Quinlan stated. He tore his gaze away from Obi-Wan to play with his mug. “If they give us the order, we _have_ to follow.” 

“Vos…” Bant started to growl, but Quinlan put up a hand to quiet her. 

He was looking back up at Obi-Wan. “But we’ve been friends since childhood, and I can’t hunt you down because orders say so. Just don’t give _me a_ reason to go after you, because I’ll make sure you’re always on your toes.” 

“ _Please_ , I already am,” Obi-Wan huffed with relief. The members of his crèche looked interested, so he began to tell them of his time training under Jango Fett. He went on to explain how Jango acted (he wasn’t as heartless as stories made him out to be) and how he trained Obi-Wan. He also included the Battle of Galidraan in Jango’s own words. 

They were at the diner for maybe an hour. Bant, Garen, and Quinlan ate their breakfast while Obi-Wan happily sipped on tea the entire time. They talked about what they were all up to. Obi-Wan finished talking about his new training and basically defended Jango as a person and bounty hunter. 

They parted ways after their chat, and Obi-Wan felt like his steps were just a bit lighter. He was walking around and trying to find something to do when Jango called on his comlink. 

_“I hope you’re not getting in any trouble?”_ Jango asked sarcastically. 

“No, just scouting. If I’m being honest, maybe we should go to the Works for a job. There’s plenty of illegal activity down there, it shouldn’t be hard to find something,” Obi-Wan said. He wasn’t actually doing much in terms of trying to find them work. He was mostly people-watching and there wasn’t anything spectacular. The area seemed a bit too nice for them to be hiring mercenaries. 

_“I have an area in mind to find a job. Someone just sold me a rifle I want you to try and xe hinted at someone to seek out in the next district over.”_

“Which district over?” 

_“Toward the_ jetii _Temple. The person who might have the job isn’t a_ jetii _but their relations with the_ jetii _aren’t very stable. I was warned the job could very well be to pester the_ jetii _, so we’ll see when we get there.”_

Obi-Wan bit his lip, pausing in his tracks when he felt something strange brush against him in the Force. “All right. I’ll—” 

Arms wrapped around Obi-Wan, one around his chest to grip him and the other around his neck to put a hand on his mouth to silence him. He grunted, hearing Jango question what was going on before his thumb slipped off the speaking button and he pocketed the device. He started to struggle as he was pulled into the alley behind him, but the arm around his chest repositioned to hold his arms down. The hand over his mouth moved to prick his neck through the fabric sharply. That left his mouth free. 

“Let me go!” He reached out with the Force to do _something_ but his attempt was smothered by the other person’s use of the Force instead. 

“Obi-Wan, calm down. It’s just me.” 

_No_. Anger rose in Obi-Wan’s gut as the arms around him loosened so he pushed away from and spun around to face the solid body of none other than Qui-Gon Jinn. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I completely forgot that time works a bit differently in the Star Wars universe. The days are still 24 hours long but there are only 5 days a week and 10 months (but that’s not including the 3 festival weeks and 3 holidays (and I can’t even figure out where the holidays are)) in a year... It’s not too big of a deal? I’m just trying to keep track of stuff and unfortunately my plans require me to be a bit acquainted with the galactic standard calendar. 
> 
> Anyway, I’m trying to keep some parts of this rendition of Obi-Wan secret until certain points. So just warning, if for some reason anyone asks in the comments for clarification, I don’t plan on explaining. Sorry, dearies!
> 
> Translations:  
> buy'ce - helmet  
> jetii - Jedi


	8. Chapter 8

Qui-Gon was standing there, looking quite happy to see Obi-Wan and not like he just assaulted his ex-Padawan with a midi-chlorian counter. He was smiling like he was _proud_ of grabbing Obi-Wan like that and making him fear that perhaps a Jedi was capturing him.

" _Calm down_?!” Obi-Wan bellowed. He was being louder than necessary, sure to draw attention to them, but the people walking outside the alley paid them no mind. Maybe their attire, that of a Jedi and a fairly-normal citizen, were enough to make people think they were having a private discussion on the side. Or, maybe the sight of a possible argument between a citizen and a Jedi was enough to keep heads pointed away (that way, if the Jedi happened to look at them when the conversation was over, they don’t have to worry about getting accused of snooping). 

He tapped a button on the frame of his visor so the screen turned transparent. While he was at it, he pulled down the neck gaiter. Might as well let Qui-Gon see all of his anger. 

“You’re telling me to _calm down_ after you grabbed me, pulled me into an alley, and stabbed me in the neck?” He took a step away from Qui-Gon when the man was about to move closer, putting a hand on his blaster in warning. “What’s the point of this? How did you know I was going to be here?” 

Qui-Gon looked slightly guilty (but not by much). “I asked your friends to keep me updated where you were eating, and they agreed. They did it because they _care_. I told them I was going to check your midi-chlorian count because we all knew you wouldn’t keep track of it.” 

“So you decide to jump me? You could’ve contacted me and I would’ve accepted to meet.” 

“I couldn’t be sure about anything, not when you’re getting taught by Fett.”

Obi-Wan turned his body away to indicate he wasn’t interested in having much of a conversation when he felt his comlink buzzing. Qui-Gon reached out in the Force to comfort him, but all it did was cause Obi-Wan to physically flinch away. It brought attention to the tatters of their bond that was never very strong in the first place. Their bond took longer than usual to develop due to Qui-Gon’s rejection of Obi-Wan and the state of Obi-Wan at the time. But they made it work and it eventually formed. And now it was nothing but shreds that incited panic. 

“So what’s the verdict? Going to drag me back to the Temple?” Obi-Wan reflected, referencing the device in Qui-Gon’s hands. 

Qui-Gon stopped looking at Obi-Wan like he was trying to convey an apology. Obi-Wan strengthened his mental shields and made his presence in the Force small. He felt a flash of guilt for treating Qui-Gon like he was—especially after the older man helped him leave the Order—but he really did not appreciate the surprise he received and Qui-Gon was acting… _strange_. He was acting softer than usual, less like the rebellious Master he is known as. 

“It increased.” 

“Not like we’re surprised. We both knew that would be the case.” 

Qui-Gon bit his lip and looked up at Obi-Wan. He no longer looked guilty or sad. Instead, he opted for the calmness of a Jedi. “You know you would be welcomed back with open arms. You could return and we could figure this out. You don’t have to live in secret or as Jango’s student anymore. He’s dangerous, I was stupid for putting you in his path. You could go back to doing regular, Jedi duties. Don’t you miss being who you truly are? What you were raised to be?” 

Obi-Wan straightened. What was Qui-Gon’s angle? Obi-Wan had a feeling the Council would be a bit cross with him because he left, but he also knew they wouldn’t have a hard time accepting him if he were to return. If he was being honest, it was a tempting offer. But he left the Order for a reason. He didn’t want to become some experiment for the Council or be treated differently all because of his midi-chlorian count. But _why_ was Qui-Gon suddenly acting differently? He said he supported Obi-Wan… Was he going back on his word? Was this all a ploy to get him distracted so another Jedi could sneak up on him to capture him and bring him back to the Order? 

Obi-Wan took another step away from Qui-Gon, reaching out with the Force at the same time to feel for any others around. There was no one, but Jedi knew how to mask their presence in the Force. Hell, Obi-Wan was _just_ doing that. He didn’t sense anyone, but he did get to detect some of Qui-Gon’s sadness through the Force. It caused him to blink. Would he make the wrong decision if he were to return to Outland Transit with Jango? What if rejoining the Order was best for him? Does… does _Qui-Gon_ actually _want_ him to return? 

His heart was beating fast and all he could do was shake his head. His anger had rapidly faded, replaced with a broken type of confusion that wasn’t a stranger to him. This moment may be the only time he could be welcomed back to the Order without many repercussions. He could resume being a Knight, maybe receive a Padawan in a few years. He could become the Master everyone previously expected him to be. 

Or, he could turn and walk away. The life of a Jedi would probably be behind him for the rest of his life. He would say goodbye to Qui-Gon for maybe the last time and return to Jango’s side. And at Jango’s side, life was more unknown. The man’s whims seemed to rest on a hair-trigger and the training and jobs he’d put Obi-Wan through were less predictable than most political jobs Jedi are sent out on. 

So Obi-Wan had to decide. Did he want to return to the familiar path or head into the unknown? 

“Qui-Gon…” he breathed miserably. He desperately wanted to please his former Master but… He didn’t know what feelings he wanted to express. 

Qui-Gon watched him with hopeful eyes. 

Parting ways with Jango would probably leave him disappointed, so there wouldn’t be a happy party after Obi-Wan’s decision whether he liked it or not. And he has learned all he could from Qui-Gon but not Jango yet (Literally. Qui-Gon had a new Padawan, and that meant Obi-Wan _had_ to be a Knight). Returning to the Order was the easy option. 

“I can’t,” Obi-Wan decided. “There’s too much on the line now, and I don’t think I’m fit to be a Jedi anymore.” 

The Jedi bowed his head politely and took a step to the side so Obi-Wan could leave (though he didn’t know Obi-Wan was going to continue down the alley so he didn’t risk getting blindsided again). “I understand. I’m sad to see you completely leaving this life behind, but it is what we planned on when you left.” 

Obi-Wan nodded in return and turned to head deeper into the alley. He stopped and looked over his shoulder at his Master before turning the corner. “Who got into your head or told you to corner me like this?” 

Qui-Gon seemed startled but got over himself quickly. “The entire Council, but mostly Yoda speaking through Windu. Jedi are encouraged to have little emotions but those two know how to dig the proper ones up for manipulation.” 

Obi-Wan frowned, but he looked away so Qui-Gon didn’t see it. Qui-Gon wasn’t lying, but it was a bit odd coming from Yoda. Then he had to remind himself that he was a bit of a science project to the Council, and the tactics they may use were to benefit them first. Mace, fairly opposite of Yoda, may be more willing to take actions into his own hands instead of waiting around for Qui-Gon to convince Obi-Wan to return. Sounded like Obi-Wan had to keep an eye out for Windu… 

“Thanks for the truth. I’ll see you around.” 

“Perhaps. May the Force be with you, Khor.” 

His feet resumed walking, fully turning the corner and leaving. He pulled up his neck gaiter and returned his visor’s settings to normal as he headed toward the location of _Jaster’s Legacy_. He checked his comlink. Jango tried contacting him several times and he didn’t pick up when Obi-Wan tried to contact him in return. That wasn’t good. 

He hurried to the building and tapped the elevator button repeatedly when he arrived. Maybe Jango was just on the ship and didn’t have his com on him. That was probably the best option to hope for. He didn’t know what Jango might do just to try and find him, his student. Turning the entirety of the district upside-down was illogical but not entirely out of the picture. 

As soon as the doors were open, Obi-Wan rushed forward. Someone getting off the lift had the same idea (Obi-Wan wasn’t afraid to admit that he was in the wrong in this instance. All he had to do was wait one second and that would have been long enough to view the capacity of the elevator). He didn’t have time to move out of the way of the other person. Instead, he bounced off a silver-plated chest but hands shot out right after to grab his upper arms to prevent him from falling. The other directed them out of the way. 

It was Jango. His _buy’ce_ was on but his shoulders showed how tense he was and his nervousness could be detected in the Force. 

“What happened?” he demanded. 

The truth seemed to be the best option. Though, Jango didn’t have to know that it was half of the truth. “A Jedi pulled me aside to test my midi-chlorian count.” 

Obi-Wan almost got whiplash from how fast Jango’s anger overtook his nervousness. He began to reach out to check Obi-Wan over but Obi-Wan swatted the approaching hands away. 

“Jango, I’m not really in the mood to be handled. How about the next thing on our list so I can put the interaction behind me?” 

Surprisingly, Jango took a step back to give Obi-Wan space. 

“If you’re positive.” It was curt, verging on sounding formal. “I have one more thing to pick up, and then we will fly _Jaster’s Legacy_ to a closer port if there is one available. If you risk another altercation with a _jetii_ , then perhaps you should stay aboard the ship until I return.” 

It wasn’t a suggestion, it was pretty much an order. 

Obi-Wan slipped into Padawan-mode easily. He bowed his head and put aside any worries for Jango. “That sounds fine.” 

“Good. The gun I got is on your seat in the cockpit. Don’t fire it on the ship, not even in the cockpit. It’s a prototype. Otherwise, do what you want with it. Just _stay on the ship_.” 

“I know,” Obi-Wan snapped. He stepped around Jango to summon the elevator. He listened as Jango huffed and he stormed off. The elevator arrived shortly and took him to his floor after he punched the corresponding button. 

When Obi-Wan boarded _Jaster’s Legacy_ , he went straight to the cockpit to inspect the new rifle. It looked too blocky to be a gun (it looked like a plain rectangle, maybe a meter total in length, two inches wide, and five inches tall). That is, before Obi-Wan brushed the activation button to cause parts of it to shift into an actual gun. 

It still wasn’t the shape of a normal rifle (now being almost two meters in length), but the (adjustable) scope, trigger, barrel, and stock were in the right places. It _looked_ like a prototype, thanks to the odd shape of it and the yellow and black strips of paint and a red ‘PROTOTYPE’ printed on the stock. There wasn’t even a place to plug in an ammo magazine, which meant the gun relied on a heatsink to fire. _Great._ Obi-Wan hoped Jango knew what he was doing when he got the weapon. 

He toyed with it the entire time Jango was gone, learning how exactly the gun functioned—without firing it. That meant taking it apart and putting it back together but that was nothing new after years of doing the same thing with a lightsaber. A lot of the parts were unique to the rifle and would probably be a pain to replace or repair if it was decided the gun wasn’t worth it. 

When Jango returned not long later, he hovered by the airlock. Obi-Wan voiced his thoughts as a greeting. “I hope you know what you’re doing by getting this gun.” 

“Yeah.” The _Mand’alor_ stepped into the cockpit, dropping a little package on Obi-Wan’s lap as he made his way to his seat. It was a box and in it contained a heatsink that was used commonly for research terminals. “The only thing that needs replaced is the heatsink, and it’s sitting on your lap right now. Install it while I find another hangar.” 

He was putting a lot of faith in Obi-Wan’s skills… but Obi-Wan _did_ know how to install it already. He opened the rifle’s chamber to expose the current heatsink. The heatsink almost crumbled when he was taking it out due to it being burnt all the way through. The inner fan was melted in place, no longer even resembling the shape of a fan. If the gun was shot one more time, the entire thing probably would’ve ended up like the component. Was that why it was a prototype, because it was going to go through a heatsink every time it fired? 

“I _really_ hope you knew what you were doing when you got this gun…” 

Jango chuckled, not taking his attention off flying. “I hope _you_ know what you’re doing because you’ll be firing it.” 

“Then I hope you’re ready to supply me with a lot of heatsinks.” 

“The person I bought it from admitted the gun wasn’t maintained. Just don’t let it overheat and I won’t be needing to buy heatsinks left and right.” 

The gun sounded like trouble waiting to happen but Obi-Wan didn’t say anything and finished installing the new heatsink. It clicked into place without any issues and made the chamber look almost as good as new—minus the leftover grime. In all honesty, he couldn’t wait to fire it. With the size of it, and the need for a hard-working heatsink, it had to pack a punch and therefore have a hefty recoil. But if the payout was worth it, Obi-Wan would take a sore shoulder. 

Jango, meanwhile, did as he said he would and found them a hangar closer to where they would meet up with their contact. He piloted _Jaster’s Legacy_ with precision that made Obi-Wan almost jealous. He knew he could fly with the same skill, maybe even better thanks to his connection with the Force. No, he was jealous because he realized he didn’t have a ship he could call his own and pilot with the same familiarity like Jango did. It was a strange feeling that overcame him, especially considering he didn’t like flying. He stamped it all down, leaving bitterness in its wake. 

Jango led the way off the ship and through the district. It was funny following him. Here he was, the _Mand’alor_ on Coruscant, looking back and forth between buildings, clearly looking for something and appearing lost. He never said what he was looking for, and Dral—as far as Jango knew—didn’t know his way around the planet, so asking him would seem pointless. They eventually made their way to a simple-looking bistro. 

It was fairly quiet inside, very few customers we sat at tables. Jango looked off to the side before leading them to a booth along the edge of the room. There, they sat next to each other, across from a rather ratty-looking man. 

“You Jeic?” Jango asked coldly. 

The man, flinched, turning his hazel eyes on them. “Who’s asking? I swear, if Marv put you up to this…” 

“A party looking for work is asking. I don’t know who sent me this way, but if you’re not looking for anyone—”

Jeic, frowning, raised a hand to silence Jango. His eyes darted around the room before studying the two sitting across from him. He sighed and slumped in his seat. “You’re not dressed very subtly…” His eyes drifted to Obi-Wan and he openly cringed. “I suppose you’re a bit more inconspicuous. But what’s with everyone and armor?” 

Obi-Wan had all of his armor on, neck gaiter and visor included, but he wasn’t as obvious as the silver-armored Mandalorian next to him. 

“If you’d rather hire someone else—” Jango started to growl. 

“No, I’ll take you two,” Jeic snapped. “Who knows when anyone willing will be sent my way again…” 

A waitress came up to their table, grinning ear to ear. It unsettled Obi-Wan but Jango seemed unphased. Jeic hardly looked at her as he ordered a mug of coffee and Jango and Obi-Wan didn’t order anything. They were quiet until Jeic’s drink arrived and he chased the waitress away, telling her to come back when he was alone again. 

“I’m warning you now, if you’re telling us to bring in a Jedi, we probably won’t take the job. My partner already had a run-in with one. We’re not interested in getting mixed up with them,” Jango informed before Jeic could get started. Obi-Wan looked at him, surprised he was labeled as a partner and not a student. Or maybe Jango saying he had a student could be seen as a sign of weakness. 

Jeic, in turn, gave Jango a rotten look. “I may not get along with Jedi but that doesn’t mean my life revolves around them… And all you’ll need to do is tail a Jedi, get her alone, and get something from her.” 

“What’s the pay?” 

“You can’t seriously—” 

“What’s the pay?” Jango repeated. 

Jeic stared with fire in his eyes. “5,000 credits. To tail the Jedi and get a code from her. But if you get into a tussle with her, the price _will_ drop. I’ll pay you when you return. Deal?” 

“How do we know you even have the money?” Obi-Wan asked. To him, Jeic didn’t seem very trustworthy. He wasn’t judging based on appearances, he was judging based on his apparent grudge against Jedi. If Jeic didn’t have good relations with the Jedi, he clearly wasn’t in the best books with them so who knows how many credits he had to his name. 

The man turned his attention to Obi-Wan, angrier. Jango seemed amused under his _buy’ce_. “I got the money, pipsqueak. So, you either accept the job or you don’t. Maybe I’ll see if Marv can send _capable_ people my way.” 

Jango leaned forward on crossed arms. His voice was steely as he spoke, “We’ll take the job. Give me your comcode and some more information so we can get out of your hair.” 

Jeic raised his lip to show a few of his teeth but he got out a piece of paper and wrote down his comcode. He then went on to explain how to find the Jedi they were after. Her name is Cael, and Jango and Obi-Wan are to find her at the nearby produce market. Jeic didn’t know why she was there and didn’t care. All he said was to get her alone and ask for the new safe code. It sounded simple enough. 

“You’re positive she’s still at the market?” Obi-Wan asked. They were getting ready to leave, better to ask now and be sure than not find Cael there at all. 

“Yes, she’s a sucker for them. I don’t know why she goes to every single one of them. It’s like she’s looking to stick her nose somewhere it doesn’t belong…” Jeic produced a physical picture from his sleeve and handed it over. “That’s her.” 

Cael reminded Obi-Wan a lot of Siri Tachi. She had similar blond hair and a little pout-turning-frown on her face. Her eyes, though not blue like Siri’s, had a wild spark in them that made them comparable to Siri’s. She still had a bit of a baby-face, so she couldn’t be that old but she had to be a Knight if she was having dealings outside the Order. 

Maybe they were staring at it for too long or too critically because Jeic made a noise and roughly took the picture back. “Go do your job, the produce market won’t be open all day…” 

Jango snorted and led the way toward the produce market from the bistro. It was bustling with activity. Several different species were selling produce or wandering around the venue. They browsed some of the stalls while they kept an eye out for Cael. Jango was genuinely interested in a lot of the spices, purchasing some then depositing them in the pouches on his belt. Obi-Wan followed him but didn’t participate in the shopping in favor of being the one to watch. 

He saw Cael first. She was talking to another human at a fruit stand. Obi-Wan angled his head away and began tapping Jango’s elbow insistently. Wordlessly, Jango cautiously turned in the correct direction. 

“Keen eyes. Watch her while I purchase these spices, then we’ll follow,” Jango instructed over their coms. 

Cael left the stand before Jango was done purchasing his spices but it was easy for them to find her again. She took her time going from stand to stand, allowing the pair following her to stop at their own stands. Obi-Wan made sure his presence in the Force was minimal as he stared her down at all times. 

Jango, deciding he was done looking at spices, linked his and Obi-Wan’s arms and directed them toward a stand selling bouquets. Now Jango was standing between Obi-Wan and Cael, making it much harder for Obi-Wan to watch her. 

“You know, I thought I was supposed to learn how to pick up jobs while we were here?” Obi-Wan growled as he tried looking around the silver helm. “You got this one all by yourself. And, by the way, you aren’t making it easy.” 

“Well, you weren’t with me. There will be more opportunities in the future. You still need your permit, anyway. You can’t collect a bounty all by yourself without one.” 

“Why was I never told about this?” Jango moved his head just as Obi-Wan finally had a clear window to see Cael. 

“Because I forgot. Simple as that. When we return to Outland, we’ll get right on it.” Jango spun them so they were following Cael just as she was starting to move again. “That sound good to you, my prince?” 

Obi-Wan’s cheeks flared with heat instantly. The linking of arms he could ignore if he focused on Cael, but now Jango was being inappropriate. “Don’t call me that.” 

“As you wish.” 

Cael stopped at fewer stands and was beginning to walk in a pattern around the market. She knew she was being followed and was probably trying to gauge her followers. Then, she started to act less obvious and stopped at a stand selling dried foods. When she was leaving, she turned to glare directly at Obi-Wan before leaving with a pack of jerky and turning down the nearest alley. 

Jango let go of Obi-Wan’s arm, speeding up to catch up to Cael. Obi-Wan hurried his own pace so he wasn’t left behind. 

The alley was a dead-end, probably just a little alcove for storing garbage, and Cael was standing there with her hands in the sleeves of her tunic waiting for them. She was frowning, and biting her lip in thought, when Obi-Wan rounded the corner. The blond hair framing her face looked disordered, making her seem frazzled. There were a few meters between her and Jango. 

“I haven’t done anything to deserve stalkers. Tell Marv to send things through Jeic. I can’t take time out of my day to always return things to him,” she huffed. Then, sensing that’s not why Jango and Obi-Wan were there, her expression hardened. “What did Jeic do now?” 

“We’re not here for either of those things. Unless you count getting hired by Jeic as him doing something,” Obi-Wan supplied. “He just wants the new safe code.” 

Cael looked between the two, lingering slightly longer on Obi-Wan. She loosened the tense stance she adopted. “It’s 22-18-36. But Dram also has it, and I’m not allowed to interfere.” 

“And what’s that supposed to mean?” Jango sighed. 

The Jedi shrugged. “If you don’t know, then maybe you aren’t _supposed_ to know. Just tell Jeic what I told you, he’ll figure the rest out himself.” She started moving toward them. Jango put his hands on his holstered pistols, causing her to stop. Her own hand went to where her lightsaber was clipped to her belt. “I gave you what Jeic wants. Can I leave?” 

Obi-Wan stepped out of the way. Cael glared at Jango on her way past him. 

“Stupid _jetii_. Always think they’re entitled to things,” Jango grumbled. 

“Well, she _did_ give us what we wanted. We had no reason to hold her back.” Obi-Wan added quietly, “And not all Jedi are bad…” 

Jango snorted, so Obi-Wan continued, “I’m serious. You just have a bad history with them. Cael was fine, wasn’t she? Your bad relations with Jedi is all because of the governor of Galidraan.” 

The _Mand’alor_ rounded on him fiercely. “They steal _ik’aad_ from their own families, they follow orders blindly, and they encourage no emotions. Some become compromised and leave their precious Order to become _dar’jetii_ and the rest of the galaxy has to deal with them! They’re a group of all-powerful beings that are used to settle the wealthy’s squabbles and are never sent to the Outer Rim. And did you forget that one ‘took you aside’ earlier? I’m not stupid, you were clearly irritated before I started pestering you. They're supposed to be an order of protectors everyone can look to but I have yet to see them benefitting more than just the Core Worlds.” 

Obi-Wan frowned. He had no counter-argument that wouldn’t reveal his own Jedi past. And Jango made enough points that trying to argue would be useless. It made Obi-Wan feel a bit guilty for being obtuse. He bowed his head to show he had no reply. 

They returned to the bistro Jeic was still hiding in. Jeic was furious when they relayed the information Cael gave them. He gave the promised credits to Jango as he ranted. When questioned about the topic, he gave an unclear answer that basically meant he and Dram weren’t on speaking terms. Then, he turned around to hire Jango and Obi-Wan, double of what he just paid them, to capture Dram (because apparently Dram was a criminal wanted for identity theft and getting him arrested was payback for something). 

Personally, Obi-Wan didn’t want to get involved with any more of Jeic’s business but Jango didn’t hesitate to accept the deal. 

Hours later, the pair was camped on the roof of a housing unit. They stopped by _Jaster’s Legacy_ to pick up the prototype rifle before they found a decent enough place overlooking the club Jeic said they’d find Dram at. Obi-Wan was situated so he could comfortably stare down the scope almost the entire time and Jango sat next to him, keeping an eye on the entire scene below them and the exit at their backs. 

They were silent for the most part. They made very few comments to one another, sometimes pointing out an interesting person below or keeping track of time. As odd as it seemed, they made it comfortable. 

Jeic had shown them a picture of Dram before they parted ways. Dram was also a human, and would most likely be (still, according to Jeic) donning a head of cyan hair. He had little lines of ink under both of his striking grey eyes and was bound to be wearing jewelry on his outer ears (Jeic disdainfully described Dram as a clubber). His clothes would be unknown but Jeic advised Dram liked to dress flashy, and even if he wasn’t dressed flashy or his hair wasn’t cyan, Dram liked to stand out, so finding him shouldn’t be hard. 

But after watching the club for hours, Dram had yet to show. Obi-Wan was beginning to feel restless, even a bit discouraged, but he had to stare through a scope the entire time. Jango, meanwhile, had more time to move around and actually watch other people. If Obi-Wan wanted to move his sight around, he had to be looking back at the club entrance quickly. 

“I’m beginning to think he decided not to come tonight,” Obi-Wan murmured. “Like maybe someone tipped him off that we were coming…” 

Jango made a noise and smacked his lips. Was he eating something? While Obi-Wan has been diligent on watching for Dram? Unbelievable… 

“He’ll show up. Dram has to do some type of business in there. No sane person goes clubbing _every_ night,” Jango assured. 

Another uneventful hour went by. Jango shared some of the little candies he was snacking on, having to helpfully put them in Obi-Wan’s waiting palm so the younger man didn’t take his eyes off the club. They just finished the candies up when cyan hair popped into view. Obi-Wan’s heart rate spiked and he was quickly announcing Dram’s arrival to Jango. 

“We need a plan when we’re in there,” Jango said as he was putting his _buy’ce_ on and gathering their strewn ‘camping’ items. 

“He might have protection or friends to watch his back.” Obi-Wan switched the rifle into its transportation mode (when it looks like a rectangular case for a smaller rifle) and held it in his hands as he thought. Getting Dram to a quiet area was their best option. Jeic didn’t say if this particular club had guest rooms but if it didn’t, there had to be a side exit to escape down. 

“What if I got him alone?” 

“ _What_?” 

“Yeah, I sidle up to him, buy him a few drinks, and ask him to take a little ‘walk’ with me. I get him alone and you’ll follow so you can secure him when there aren’t prying eyes.” 

“That sounds like a terrible idea,” Jango grumbled. 

“Do you have anything better?” 

No reply came so Obi-Wan stripped himself of his armor, securing it all in a neat little bundle with the built-in straps, and pushed it into Jango’s hands. He felt naked since there was a slight breeze and he was completely vulnerable—Jango wasn’t helping by glaring from behind his visor. And, to further his point, he took the strap of the rifle and slung it over Jango’s head and clipped his falchion to Jango’s belt. 

“See? Look how neutral I look now. I have my blaster, like any smart person would, and look like a natural citizen,” Obi-Wan said as he held his arms up to show his very weaponless body off. 

“If it doesn’t look capable when we’re inside, the plan _will_ be changed.” 

“I’m pretty confident it’s our best option.” 

Jango gathered their supplies and stuffed it in the corner of the roof they were inhabiting—Obi-Wan’s armor included, but not his falchion and rifle—and grabbed onto Obi-Wan. Obi-Wan turned to wrap his arms around Jango right before he jumped off the side of the roof, activating his jetpack to slow their descent. 

“Asshole,” Obi-Wan growled loud enough so Jango would hear. 

When they landed, they separated and entered the club. 

It was darker in the club, mostly lit by pink lights, but Dram didn’t get very far. He was sitting at the bar in the center of the room, already drinking a bright liquid. Thankfully, plenty of people were milling around. Jango grabbed Obi-Wan’s arm roughly and pulled him aside and out of Dram’s sight. 

“You have your comlink on you?” Jango asked. He had to say it close to Obi-Wan’s ear so he wasn’t shouting. 

“In my pocket. And my blaster is loaded and I have a knife tucked under my belt,” Obi-Wan responded. 

“Good. This is one of those clubs with rooms upstairs. Get him to go up there and I will follow.” 

“Sounds like a plan.” Jango began to move to find somewhere to sit but Obi-Wan snagged his arm before he could get much farther. “Thank you, for going with my plan.” 

“Yeah, well, it has to work first.” And then Jango was slipping through the crowd. 

Obi-Wan gathered his wits and approached the bar. A seat right next to Dram was open, so he sat there and ordered a cider at random. Dram glanced at him out of the corner of his eye but didn’t say anything. When his cider arrived, Obi-Wan immediately lifted it to his lips to sip at it and caught Dram openly staring. 

“Awfully bold of you. What if I was saving that seat for a friend?” Dram asked. His voice was light and silky, almost betraying his sharp looks. His eyes, accented by cat-eye eyeliner, studied Obi-Wan curiously. 

“Not too good of a friend to not show up, huh? How about I act as your friend tonight? Your second drink,” Obi-Wan motioned to the glass already in front of Dram, “on me.” 

Dram smirked playfully, showing his teeth. “My friends don’t usually enable my drinking habits. You make sure I’m not thirsty for the next hour and we’ll see how much of my friend you really are.” 

“I’ll agree to that.” 

Dram downed his first drink quickly to test if Obi-Wan was serious. Obi-Wan showed that he was by getting the bartender’s attention and letting them know that he’d buy anything Dram ordered within the hour.

They talked for a bit. Dram slowed down his drinking but he took advantage of the free source of alcohol next to him. He didn’t give a clear explanation of what he did for a living but the information he gave made it sound like soliciting, which led to identity theft. Obi-Wan put it bluntly that he was a mercenary but he and his friends were on Coruscant for some supplies then they’d be off. 

That seemed to intrigue Dram. “How did a little hunter such as yourself get to this club here?” 

Obi-Wan shrugged. Technically, a bounty, but he didn’t say that aloud. “Luck. Wanted to go where my crewmates weren’t.” 

“Then, you came to the best club closest to the Jedi Temple.” There was some sourness to Dram’s voice. “They think they own the place yet are too afraid to actually come through the doors.” 

An hour passed and Obi-Wan bought Dram only a few more drinks. They both were consuming tooth-rotting sweet drinks. Obi-Wan was doing his best to filter the alcohol using the Force so he wouldn’t be affected. He was doing a good job, in his opinion, but it was hard to keep filtering it as he drank and acted looser, all while trying to keep up with Dram at the same time. He finally had enough of it. 

“So, think I made a good friend for the night?” 

Dram looked surprised before he gave a dopey smile. “Better than my own, I’d say.” 

Obi-Wan rubbed his fingers together, pushing a mind trick, “Wanna take this somewhere else then?” 

The other man looked like he sobered up briefly, but he wiped it off his face quickly. Instead, he slid out of his seat, grabbing Obi-Wan’s hand with soft palms and pulled him toward a staircase at the far end of the room. Obi-Wan couldn’t see Jango out of the corner of his eye and couldn’t risk making a scene by looking for him. Reaching out with the Force wasn’t an option while he was still filtering his systems, so he just had to trust that Jango would be there. 

Dram led them to a room at the end of the hall at the top of the staircase. All he had to do was swipe the bracelet he was wearing on the little console beside the door and the door opened. He stepped through, pulling Obi-Wan in after him. The door wasn’t even closed when Dram was on him. Though, not in the sense Obi-Wan implied downstairs. No, instead, Dram’s hands wrapped around Obi-Wan’s throat as they pushed toward the bed. 

“You fucker!” Dram spat. He pushed Obi-Wan down onto the bed and landed on him. “You Force-scum! I’m not stupid, I felt you try to use a Jedi mind trick on me! You think I’m weak?!” 

Obi-Wan grabbed at Dram’s hands. He didn’t have it in him to fight back… He was utterly blindsided with the Force just out of reach… Jango better hurry his ass up and arrive before Obi-Wan got his neck broken. 

“You’re an open book now, aren’t you? Your emotions are bleeding into the Force, darling,” Dram teased. He was smiling bitterly, not that Obi-Wan could clearly see him. “Scared? Aw, what for? Is it me knowing that you’re a trained Force-sensitive? Or, how about thinking one of your crewmates will actually be able to save you before I choke you out?” Dram squeezed even harder momentarily before letting up so he was aware Obi-Wan was still with him. “They won’t arrive. I’ll kill you in this room before.” 

Things turned dark and murky faster than what Obi-Wan was comfortable with. He just about accepted his fate. But the pressure was off his neck within the next second and Dram wasn’t clouding his view when he could see clearly. He began hacking before he turned his head to see Jango forcing Dram’s arms behind his back, probably pushing one out of place by digging his knee into the other man’s shoulder. 

“You’re an idiot, Khor!” Jango was shouting. 

“He's Force-sensitive, and gag him,” Obi-Wan managed. Jango was still cursing at him, some in Basic and some in Mando’a, but he pulled out the cuffs for Force-sensitives and slapped some tape onto Dram’s mouth. 

Obi-Wan managed to sit up. He looked in Jango’s direction but refused to look at the _Mand’alor_ himself. “It _worked_ , Jango. Stop spitting, it worked. I’m alive and Dram’s captured.” 

Jango shot up to his feet and approached Obi-Wan rapidly. “It was stupid.” He turned to pull Dram to his feet but was back in Obi-Wan’s space right after. “What if I didn’t arrive in time?” 

“But you did, that’s all that matters. He’s caught. Now let’s get him turned over to the authorities so we can get off this planet!” Obi-Wan pushed past Jango and exited the room. The world spun around him but he continued onward. He entertained the idea of puking when they returned to _Jaster’s Legacy_. “Place is nothing but trouble…” 

Dram was grabbed by Jango and they went through the club to the exit. Cael was standing outside, her hands behind her back and smiling pleasantly at them, with Jeic smoking something next to her and making her look wildly out of place. She tipped her head to the side when both men looked at her, almost like she knew they were surprised to see her. 

Cael slapped her own cuffs on Dram and Jango took his own back when they approached her. Jeic and Jango took a few steps away to hand transfer credits, leaving Obi-Wan with Cael and Dram. Obi-Wan watched the other two, not very comfortable being left with Cael. 

“You know, the Temple will always be open to you,” came a whisper next to him. 

Obi-Wan’s attention snapped to Cael, who was smiling innocently. His blood was cold in an instant. He stepped toward Jango, feeling the Jedi’s eyes on him. 

“You ready?” Jango asked gruffly. “I need to fly up and get our stuff before we leave.” 

“Yes, just do it quickly. I want to get off this planet.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (I can't remember if I mentioned this before but) Because we're going a bit canon divergent, there will be a decent amount of OCs. They won't be as important as our main peeps but I am warning everyone now just in case you don't like the idea of Jango and Obi interacting with a lot of made-up characters. 
> 
> Translations  
> buy'ce - helmet  
> ik'aad - baby, child under 3  
> dar'jetii - no longer a Jedi (used mostly to mean Sith)


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for a bit of a late update, some things came up. 
> 
> Now is when I'll say that I'm not sure when future updates will be exactly. I like posting every other week but I have to write a response to a book (that I'm not done reading) for university. I'm not sure how long it will take or if it will drain me of my writing juices. (I'm not guaranteeing an update on this date but...) I plan to keep a posting schedule of every other Wednesday. If nothing is posted on the proper Wednesday, or until Saturday of that week, then the chapter should be posted the following Wednesday. Thanks for being patient with me! 😊 (And don't worry, I'm not pressuring myself to post, I'm just trying to be responsible by keeping a schedule)

They didn’t leave Coruscant right away like they both thought they would. Instead, they headed into the undercity. 

First, they spent the night on _Jaster’s Legacy_ before they rented transport to head into the undercity. And the undercity was never the most friendly of places to visit. Qui-Gon took Obi-Wan down there once for a fairly quick excursion probably considered very dangerous for someone his age without the Force to rely on. 

After a bland breakfast, Jango drove their airspeeder into the depths of the undercity. It was a fairly silent ride. Obi-Wan was on his best behavior due to his antics the day before. Best not to get on Jango’s bad side for the duration of their Coruscant visit. 

They stopped in a lot to park vehicles to pull out Jango’s datapad to search for jobs. There were several offers in the undercity but none seemed to get Jango’s attention. 

“There’s gotta be someplace handing out bounties…” Obi-Wan grumbled. 

Jango gave him a look, handed his datapad over, and flew them to the nearest place that might be dealing bounties. Obi-Wan gave the bounties a once-over before deactivating the datapad and set it aside to give back to Jango when they were stopped again. 

Outlander Club wasn’t so much a club and was more like a house of gambling. Yet, like any club, it was loud, dark, and filled with blinking, colorful lights that made you question what the color of your seat actually is. And despite the time of the day, it was bustling with activity. Things in the undercity and lower levels tended to work a bit differently than the rest of Coruscant but gambling through the night was a bit ridiculous. 

“How good are you at sabacc? Corellian Spike specifically?” Jango asked over comlink. They approached the central bar to lean against it. Jango ordered a light beverage with a straw. He finished his drink in a few easy gulps and set it aside. 

“Can’t say I’ve ever played any version of sabacc,” Obi-Wan replied, the mic in his visor easily picking up his words. 

“You might be learning today.” 

They took a long walk around the entire club, observing where activities were being held and where few people were actually treating it like a club. They ended up on one of the upstairs balconies, watching a game of Corellian Spike take place. Jango was quiet for the most part, letting Obi-Wan watch and put the pieces together himself. Only when Obi-Wan was truly confused, he’d ask a quiet question, picked up by his com, and Jango would answer. 

It turned out they weren’t playing sabacc to win a bounty, Jango was having them play in hopes of getting a lead. 

Jango jumped in the next round when a human lost his remaining credits. Obi-Wan had to—or was ordered to (because some noticed he and Jango were previously talking to each other)—pull down his neck gaiter and take a step back so he couldn’t quietly speak to Jango. If it looked like he was talking to Jango, then Jango would probably be disqualified from the round if not the entire game. 

Then the game commenced. From what Obi-Wan picked up, and from what Jango explained, he believed he understood everything that was happening. Jango didn’t seem to have the best hand but his helmet hid his expression and he still had time to adjust his numbers or get a completely new hand. The only issue was that the other players weren’t really in a talking mood. Jango tried making small talk right away and received a dirty look from a competing Rodian. 

Finally, when they went through several rounds, and Jango had the same amount of credits he started with, the Rodian blurted, “If you’re gonna keep jabbering, go upstairs!” The Rodian, who was progressively doing worse as rounds went by and as Jango kept talking. 

Jango collected his credits and said with a snarky edge to his voice, “I think I may.” 

Other players let out groans of relief as Jango left the table and headed toward the stairs for the next floor up with Obi-Wan. 

“I’m surprised they didn’t say something sooner. You were being quite a thorn in everyone’s side as soon as you opened your mouth and refused to lose any major credits,” Obi-Wan mused. 

“They probably would’ve if I actually gained credits,” Jango huffed. “But alas, I was taught to hold my ground during sabacc. I don’t have the talents for gaining a dramatic foothold during those games.” 

“So you’re hoping I might be able to put on the pressure?” They reached the top of the stairs and Obi-Wan looked at Jango. 

Jango shrugged and led the way toward the tables. “It would be nice. It sounds like it’s a bit more competitive up here so getting any leads and earning a few extra credits while we’re at it is a bonus.” 

It was quieter on the floor they were on. Not completely quiet, since they were still in the club and the tables in use all had some activity around them, but it was a noticeable change from the previous floor. The table they were headed to was the most inactive one in use. No one stood around to watch (though, to be fair, any audience for the other games were at a farther distance than they were allowed on the previous level) and there were several seats open. 

Jango kept Obi-Wan from getting closer as he pulled out a handful of credits from his belt and split them evenly. 

“Don’t lose them all at once,” Jango instructed. “I’m not sure if they allow people to stand around and watch these games. And obscure your face.” 

Obi-Wan pulled up his neck gaiter and shuffled his credits into a neat stack. Jango looked him over, nodded when he decided they were ready, and approached the table. 

A round was still in progress but Jango and Obi-Wan took seats next to one another and waited. Obi-Wan observed the others silently. There were two other humans at the table, two women, dressed plainly compared to him and Jango. The only Mirialan at the table had some decent armor on him. His pale yellow face had several sets of Mirialan markings that drew your attention, so that either meant he was showing off his political standing or skills. The last player was a young Togruta with bluish skin, looking mildly uncomfortable. 

The Mirialan, looking somewhat bored, was the first to address the newcomers. “Ooh, a Mandalorian and mercenary wish to join us. Maybe it’ll really kick this game up a notch.” 

The two humans began to send each other looks. Probably partners like he and Jango were, either in the same or different sense. When the round ended, the woman with long hair kissed her partner on the head and left. 

“Shame she had to go so soon,” the Mirialan sighed in a mocking tone, “and just when things were probably going to heat up, too.” 

“Why don’t you mind your own business, you kriffer,” the woman growled. 

The Mirialan held up his hands in mock surrender, at the same time throwing his cards down onto the table face up. “Well excuse me for wanting something a bit more exciting.” 

Everyone else exposed their cards, revealing the Mirialan the winner. He grinned and leaned forward to scoop up his rewards. He turned to Jango and Obi-Wan expectantly. “So, are you two going to join in? Can we expect the same loving words the women so graciously allowed us all to hear?” 

Jango audibly growled. “We’re joining, but don’t expect the same friendliness they may have given you.” 

The woman scoffed. “At least it shows we have hearts, Black Sun scum.” 

Obi-Wan became more alert and he felt Jango tense up through the Force. He didn’t know why he didn’t recognize the Black Sun symbol on the Mirialan’s shoulder sooner. Even the markings on his face were vaguely in the same shape. 

“We’re not all the same, civvy,” the man spat back with venom this time. “Some of us are just trying to get by.” 

“So don’t mess with us others that are trying to do the same!” 

Obi-Wan glanced around at the table awkwardly. It appeared the job of dealing was either the woman or Mirialan and they were too busy arguing. The Togruta next to him stared down at the table blankly. Obi-Wan nudged Jango under the table and motioned at the two arguing. 

“Can we get this game started?” Jango demanded. 

The two cooled off, for the time being, allowing the cards to be handed to the Mirialan and get dealt. 

Things went smoothly in the first game. Obi-Wan used the Force slightly to stay on top of things and Jango came out as the winner. The second round, he won the pot. The third round, the Togruta won then left. 

“How old do you think the kid was?” the woman asked when the Togruta was out of earshot. 

“Fifteen? Who cares,” the Mirialan, who revealed his name was Cadzi, grumbled. “Just deal the cards.” 

Obi-Wan handed the woman, who he thought called herself Zia, the cards. She took them roughly, shuffled them, and started to pass them out with practiced ease. 

“So, what brings a Mandalorian and mercenary to play Corellian Spike?” Cadzi questioned. 

“Boredom,” Jango answered plainly. 

Obi-Wan picked his cards up. His visor was too dark to show his eyes but he looked over the tops of his cards at the Mirialan. “What brings a Black Sun member to playing Corellian Spike instead of smuggling slaves?” 

Cadzi widened his eyes at his cards before he looked up at Obi-Wan with the same expression. “You have an awfully bold mouth on you.” 

Obi-Wan shrugged. He threw a few credits on the pile. 

“Hear any rumors?” Jango asked, trying to steer the conversation in a different direction. 

“Yeah,” Zia answered sardonically, “apparently the Black Sun smuggles slaves.” 

“I’ll do you one better,” Cadzi added the appropriate amount of credits, but Obi-Wan could tell he didn’t have a good hand, “the Black Sun is currently looking for a few pilots willing to throw their lives away on jobs that might be fruitless. Maybe your mercenary friend should sign up. I can get him through the proper channels so he _will_ get accepted.” 

“Can’t. Sorry to say but I have to babysit him until he can care for himself. Maybe when he’s out of my care, he can sign himself up if you’re still hiring,” Jango responded coldly. 

“Even if it’s not the same job, I can talk to my boss to get him something similar.” 

Obi-Wan bit back any reply, pushing down any hurt Cadzi and Jango may have caused, and focused on the game. He was the only one with a good hand. Jango had the worst hand at the table. Zia had the next best hand but she still wouldn’t be able to beat Obi-Wan’s pure sabacc. He just had to keep the dice from landing on the same symbol. Any time Zia rolled the dice, Obi-Wan prevented them from displaying matching symbols until the game was over and he was the one winning both pots. 

“I hear things will be getting rough on Mandalore soon. You’re Mandalorian, that your home planet?” Zia mentioned when the next game was getting started. 

“I wasn’t born there but it’s something close to home. Why would things be getting rough on Mandalore?” Jango replied. He acted semi-curious but Obi-Wan could tell how curious he actually was. 

The woman shrugged. “Word is the true Mandalore isn’t actually dead like Satine claimed. He’s still kicking—somewhere—and has some sort of hound he’s training. Would be funny if he taught that thing to rip throats out and walked onto the Empress’ doorstep to take back his title with it.” 

Obi-Wan cringed mentally at the imagery. That… wouldn’t be ideal. Or, at the very least, pleasant. 

Jango shrugged. “Can’t say I heard of that. I hope the best for the _Mand’alor_ and hope I’ll be called upon when he makes his return.” 

Obi-Wan didn’t win the next few hands purposely. He could tell that, between his and Jango’s earnings, they managed to gain more credits than what they started with. Zia had to buy-in once due to most of the credits being between Cadzi and Obi-Wan. And Zia, compared to Cadzi, was pleasant company. Her brashness from earlier disappeared for the most part as she got more comfortable. Meanwhile, Cadzi was on edge the entire time, glaring quite a bit at Obi-Wan. 

When it was Obi-Wan’s turn to deal, he observed the deck using the Force. He wasn’t planning on cheating, he just wanted an idea on where the cards were. He dealt them out. Zia had the worst hand. She cursed as soon as she saw them and folded as soon as it was her turn. Jango bowed out last minute, right before bets increased. 

“Think your hand is good enough?” Cadzi asked lightly. He pushed just about half of all of his credits in. 

Obi-Wan glanced at his hand. He had a full sabacc and the only hand better than that would be a pure sabacc, which he knew Cadzi didn’t have. He pushed his remaining credits into the main pot. 

“Winner gets both pots.” 

Cadzi looked down at his cards. “Fine.” He added the remainder of his credits. 

They revealed their hands. Cadzi glared at Obi-Wan’s hand. 

Zia let out a low whistle, collecting her remaining credits at the same time. “Nice playing with you boys, but I think I’m gonna head out before something bad happens.” 

Obi-Wan turned to her, smiling. “It was lovely playing with you.” 

She gave him an odd look in return. “Right…” 

The Mirialan stared at the table where Obi-Wan was collecting his winnings and Jango was cautiously collecting the cards. 

“Another round, just you and me.” 

Obi-Wan could detect Jango’s flaring discomfort, so he made sure to respond quickly. “I’m not giving you any credits back to do so.” 

“I wouldn’t expect you to.” Cadzi no longer had a mild-mannered appearance. His temper was amped up, suspicious of Obi-Wan, with his anger bleeding into the Force. “I’ll buy-in, and all credits will be in the pot at the end.” 

Jango grabbed Obi-Wan’s elbow, his grip tightened harshly. Obi-Wan turned to him reactively and spoke calmly, “Relax, I know what I’m doing.” 

“What you’re doing is stupid. You’re _not_ doing this after what you pulled last night.” His voice was sharp with irritation. Obi-Wan felt a bit bad… but at the same time, he _knew_ he could win. 

“Let me.” 

“Why would I ever do that?” 

“Because you have to start fully trusting me at some point!” 

Jango roughly let go of Obi-Wan and sat back in his seat reluctantly. He crossed his arms and stubbornly looked away, wordlessly allowing Obi-Wan to play the last game. 

Cadzi had a new pile of credits in front of him. Obi-Wan grabbed the deck of cards and shuffled them quickly. He was able to tell where some of the cards were, so when he came across one of the sylops, he slid it up the sleeve of his shirt for later. When he was done, he dealt the cards. 

The game started out as any round of Corellian Spike would. They used normal amounts of credits until it was the final round, then they added all of their credits into the pot. Obi-Wan could tell Jango was watching tensely, especially when Obi-Wan had to lose a decent hand before the final round when the symbols on the dice matched. However, the sylop was still up his sleeve. 

When the new cards were passed out, Obi-Wan was able to form a strong hand with it. No matter what, Cadzi shouldn’t be able to beat him, not when Obi-Wan managed to build another full sabacc. Unless Cadzi had the same hand, but Obi-Wan could tell he didn’t. He did, however, have the other sylop. 

All credits were in the pot and they had to reveal their hands. Obi-Wan confidently laid his cards out, observing the sharp way Cadzi showed his weaker hand. Cadzi stared at each of their cards before his lip curled up in a snarl. 

“You’re cheating.” He pulled a blaster pistol out in an instant and was shooting. Obi-Wan didn’t have the upper hand but he had the assistance of the Force, so he dove out of the way. Jango was on his feet soon after, but Obi-Wan and Cadzi were moving faster. 

Obi-Wan lunged for Cadzi under the table and the Mirialan was stepping back toward the nearest window. The ex-Jedi hugged the Mirialan’s waist and pulled out one of his knives to stab it into the man’s hip where there was a gap in the armor. He received a hard hit on the side of the head for that right before Cadzi smashed through the window and disappeared before he could get his eyes to focus. 

Jango came over to help him, having decided to collect their credits before he did so. His anger and disappointment in the Force were suffocating, and his grip was even tighter than before. 

“We are leaving.” 

Obi-Wan couldn’t tell if that was addressed to him or onlookers as he was pulled along by Jango. 

* * *

Jango enforced another month of training when they returned from Coruscant. Obi-Wan wasn’t surprised but he was disheartened, especially since it seemed Jango decided to put on the breaks, locking up emotionally and trusting Obi-Wan less. It felt like they were almost back at the start. 

For the first day they were back, they didn’t train. Jango said he had to go pick something up from an incoming trade ship so Obi-Wan was left entirely alone. Roz had to run the station so she didn’t have time to entertain him. He decided to wander the markets, looking for equipment. He found himself his own neck gaiter, a grey color that matched his armor well, and looked for other general equipment (he bought a few different knives so he wasn’t constantly borrowing the knives Jango said were communal). 

When Jango returned the next day, he had a droid trailing behind him. He announced it as a repurposed TC-SC infiltration droid for training. It was a gift for Roz but they would also be using it to train. Whoever he got it from mixed in parts from a Jedi training droid, so it would be durable and have combat abilities almost equal to a Jedi. And it was lovingly named Terry… 

Obi-Wan was nervous to see the droid. He trained with several of the Temple droids growing up. If Terry had parts from a Jedi training droid, then it was sure to have parts reinforced to stand lightsaber blows and untampered memory banks so it would be able to properly teach. But, the first time he went against the droid, it showed no signs of remembering him. 

After the first few days of training, Jango took Obi-Wan through the process of getting a B23-1-14 permit. It was something he may never have to do again but it was better he knew how to do it than not. It meant that he would be able to collect the rewards for bounties and not have to wait on Jango to give him his fair share after a job. Instead, it could be the opposite way around. 

But, no matter how glad Obi-Wan was to get his permit, he was beginning to grow cold toward Jango. 

Halfway through the month, Jango wasn’t afraid to make Obi-Wan train with the droid. He seemed content brushing Obi-Wan aside to escape the responsibility of training. At first, Obi-Wan was fine with it. Jango had his own schedule before he began teaching Obi-Wan, the man may have equally important things to do or errands to run and not enough time with training. But as the days continued, and Obi-Wan was continuously told to train with Terry, he began to grow more and more frustrated, especially when Jango was in the same room but working on his own exercises. 

Obi-Wan, finally having enough, effortlessly defeated the droid by laying it out on its back then approached Jango with rapid steps. The man in question regarded Obi-Wan with some annoyance. 

“Train me, Jango,” he demanded. “Stop telling me to fight the droid every day, I’m getting sick of it.” 

Jango stopped punching the dummy and his eyes hardened. “Funny how you’re expecting me to listen to you when you can’t seem to listen to me.” 

Obi-Wan crossed his arms. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Terry begin to get up. “You’re punishing me for what I did on Coruscant? Then punish me by making me actually work! You may not have liked what I did but with Dram, I was able to get him alone so we could capture him, and with Cadzi, I got us a lot of extra credits!” 

The _Mand’alor_ spun toward him in an instant. “What you did, both times, regardless of the outcomes, was stupid! I don’t encourage or teach like that! What’s the point of teaching you if you’re just going to go against my word in the end?” 

“So teach me _now_! At this point, you’re just telling me to waste my time and effort by fighting a droid daily! Telling me to fight a droid isn’t going to teach me how to listen to you or make better decisions!” 

That seemed to make Jango realize how his current training methods weren’t benefitting much. His momentarily blank eyes turned suspicious as he pulled himself from his thoughts. Wordlessly, he walked over to the weapon racks and picked up two staves. He threw one to his trailing student. 

“We’ll do a listening exercise right now, then.” They walked to the center of the room where Terry still waited. Jango ordered the droid to stand along the edge of the room. “We spar, but you are only allowed to do as I say. I say defend, and you defend. I say attack, and you attack. If you don’t listen, then you’ll keep exercising with Terry for the rest of the day.” 

Obi-Wan wanted to roll his eyes but he forced himself not to. He wanted to be trained, this was how it was going to go. Jango had to be assured that Obi-Wan was willing to listen, and this was just one of the steps (he hoped) to regaining Jango’s trust. It was a bit of a convoluted way to show Jango he was serious, but it was Jango, and the man’s temperament was almost as convoluted. 

Jango started off easy. He told Obi-Wan to defend as he did light attacks that he had plenty of time to see coming. But Jango knew how capable Obi-Wan was when they fought up close, so it didn’t take him long to increase the force he put into his swings and sped up. 

When he was told to attack, Obi-Wan switched from Soresu to Ataru smoothly. He was as aggressive as he could be without expelling all of his energy. The goal was to keep Jango on his own toes, do as he was told by attacking, and pushing to advance the difficulty at which they were sparring, all while making sure he wasn’t completely fighting like a Jedi. 

The order to defend came quickly and, sure enough, Jango kicked it up a notch. He was aggressive and knew how to overwhelm Obi-Wan. He hoped it didn’t have anything to do with him being a Jedi and Jango randomly using a tactic specifically for Jedi. 

They switched back and forth a few times, keeping up the faster and aggressive attacks. Obi-Wan was on the defense for a long time. His energy was waning a bit faster than what it normally would because he was barely using Soresu to defend himself. He was making simple mistakes, taking wrong feints and wielding his staff with less precision. 

It wasn’t until he sidestepped one of Jango’s swings when he held his staff out to keep his balance. Jango took immediate advantage, slamming his weapon down on Obi-Wan’s knuckles. It caused Obi-Wan to drop his staff and curse as his knuckles throbbed. Thankfully, Jango took a step back to indicate they were done. 

“Was that necessary?” Obi-Wan grumbled. His hands were shaking from the pain and exertion. They both were sweating and breathing heavily. 

Jango grinned devilishly, leaning on his staff. “Nope.” He approached Obi-Wan’s discarded staff and picked it up to put away. “Go clean up.” 

And so that marked their training starting to return to somewhat normalcy. Jango still utilized Terry but not in the same way as before. Otherwise, if they weren’t using the droid, it was off with Roz. 

They continued doing situational training. Jango was a person who liked to have plans before entering a potentially dangerous situation while Obi-Wan was a person who tended to do things on the fly. They both knew their differences and understood how much they were probably going to clash in the future. But, as long as Obi-Wan proved he was going to listen to Jango more and have a semi-formulated plan before acting, things probably weren’t going to go badly (or Jango hopefully wouldn’t get a very big surprise if Obi-Wan gets a sudden idea and tries to act on it). 

With new training regimens in place, their days were back to having a semblance of a schedule. As for researching jobs, they did that in the private meeting rooms between the recreational room and private lobby after they were cleaned up for the day. Jango gave some helpful information about finding jobs but otherwise left Obi-Wan alone to figure things out himself. 

Obi-Wan eventually found a decent-paying job on Chandrila. A government official said their child went missing, taken by a family member, and requests for the child to be brought back safely. There wasn’t much more information but it was solid enough and sounded fairly easy. When Obi-Wan showed it to Jango, he seemed to agree. 

“Sounds like a job. Mark it, and let’s go pack up. We’ll eat final meal with Roz then head out.”

Obi-Wan gladly smiled when Jango wasn’t looking, feeling giddy inside. They were going to be completing a bounty he picked up. It sounded simple enough; get the kid, bring them back to their parent, and get paid. They wouldn’t be putting their lives in danger and would be getting a generous reward for it, too. He just hoped it would all go as smoothly as he liked to imagine it would. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Corellian Spike is what came up first when I was looking at sabacc. It seemed appealing so I chose to stick with it, just in case if any of you prefer a different type of sabacc.


	10. Chapter 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The chapter was a bit too big to post as one so it was split into two parts smaller than the usual. Nonetheless, I hope you enjoy. ;)

Obi-Wan was a faster runner than Jango, he was even tapping into the Force at the moment, but Jango was still outrunning him. The man was several paces ahead, taking long strides and using his jetpack to boost himself. 

A bang sounded, causing Obi-Wan’s sore chest to respond reactively. That was probably why he was having a hard time breathing. He glanced back but didn’t see anyone suspicious, so he faced forward again but Jango was already gone. Great! Losing track of Jango was the last thing he needed in a city now hostile toward him. 

He continued running forward. The best thing was to get to _Jaster’s Legacy_ now. He had extremely few ways to reunite with Jango, and running around the city might just get him into more trouble. Jango would eventually meet him on the ship, he was the best bounty hunter in the galaxy, he couldn’t be stopped by a competing bounty hunter… right? 

The back of his chestpiece was grabbed and he was roughly pulled to the side, giving him whiplash and contributing to his headache. His head spun and he was alerted of his shaking hands when Jango’s helmet came into view. Relief washed over him and he sagged against the nearest alley wall. 

Jango’s attention was on the dent in the center of Obi-Wan’s torso. “Did it pierce?” he asked, sounding frazzled. To him, it probably felt like another Battle of Galidraan. 

Obi-Wan shook his head minutely. He was still trying to process what just happened. 

“We need to get to the ship. We wait too long and they may have her locked up permanently.” 

“I take it we’re not going to get paid?” 

Jango scoffed bitterly. “In situations like this, getting paid is the last thing to think about.” He glanced out the alley, checking their surroundings before turning back to Obi-Wan to address him amicably. “But that would be a no. We need to get moving.” 

Obi-Wan got back to his feet and followed Jango out the alley, desperately hoping they would be able to escape Nayli alive and on _Jaster’s Legacy_. 

* * *

**Approximately 35 hours earlier…**

Chandrila was a beautiful world that Obi-Wan wished he visited with Qui-Gon or Kencha so he could have gotten a true Jedi’s insight on the planet. It wasn’t even far from Coruscant, yet he never visited the planet. It had a moderate temperature, beautiful rolling hills. There was also a Jedi tomb there, but they wouldn’t be visiting. 

The city they were landing in, Nayli, was small and surrounded by some of the greenest grasslands Obi-Wan has ever seen. It wasn’t small like a town, where everyone knew each other. Nayli was one of Chandrila’s main spaceports but the smallest of them and maybe one of the smallest cities on the entire planet. It was strange to see such an important city secluded and most accessible to the planet’s inhabitants by ground transport. 

They landed after a week’s journey and Obi-Wan was given some time to gawk at the city’s image before Jango was pulling him along to head to their destination. 

Nayli was small enough they were able to walk comfortably through the streets and window-shop and look at products from street vendors. A few squalls skirted along the edges of buildings but no one paid them any mind. 

“Beautiful planet,” Obi-Wan commented softly. 

“I noticed,” Jango replied. He wasn’t looking at anything in particular but he sounded genuine. 

They continued in the direction of their contractor’s house. There was enough information on the bounty listing about the child so they didn’t have to visit the contractor, but according to Jango, meeting the contractor face-to-face was the best choice you could make so you could tell if the bounty was true or not. 

Their contractor had a house at the edge of town. It was at least two stories tall with a balcony on the second floor and an ostentatious porch on the front of the house. Someone was sitting on a white couch on the porch and they rose when they saw the approaching guests. 

“Ah, I’ve been waiting for you.” They stuck out their hand to shake. “Waol Kelgar, he/him.” 

Jango shook his hand first. “Fett, he/him.” 

Obi-Wan was next. “Khor, he/him.” 

“Well, lovely to meet you both, but I’m unsure as to why you wanted to meet up. My daughter was _taken_ from me, you should be out searching for her this instance.” Waol exuded calmness, even in the Force. The only thing making him appear worried was his voice. Even as he sat down, it was in a very relaxed position. It felt off to Obi-Wan. 

Waol was a human, probably around Obi-Wan’s age but a bit bigger in size with slicked-back black hair and neatly trimmed matching eyebrows. He was wearing a white robe embroidered with golden details. His facial features were simple but strong, and there was a bit of an entitled look on his face. He had to be a government official or some type of royalty on Chandrila. 

“Sometimes talking to the one issuing the bounty can reveal information not included in the ad,” Jango explained. “So is there anything else you can tell us?” 

Waol’s dark eyebrows furrowed a fraction. “My cousin took her. Xe went out to the nearest game preserve where our family has a lodge.” 

“What’s stopping you from going to get her yourself?” Obi-Wan asked curiously. 

“We’ve never gotten along so we aren’t allowed out there at the same time. That, and xe threatened to harm my baby girl with xer pet strill.” 

Jango sighed and visibly deflated. “ _Striil_ don’t harm children. Your cousin was threatening to sic xer pet on you.” 

“Either way!” Waol threw his bejeweled hands in the air dramatically. He pulled out a stick from his robe to put up to his lips. He inhaled deeply then slowly blew out smoke from his mouth. 

“What’s the fastest way out there?” Jango sighed. 

“Transit. There’s a station on the edge of the city. Tickets are cheap and the ride is only a few hours long.” Waol took another draw from his stick, his eyes turning critical as he looked at Jango specifically. “But our lodge is almost a day’s walk out.” 

“ _What_? Can we take our own transport out there?” 

“If you want to get stopped by constant tolls. No private vehicles are allowed near reserves to limit pollution near wildlife. A public transport shuttle will be there to take you deeper into the preserve if you don’t want to walk, but the shuttle goes in the direct opposite of the lodge.” 

“So how are we supposed to get your daughter back?” 

“There’s transport _at_ the lodge. How do you think we get there?” Waol laughed like it was obvious. “You’ll probably have to walk there because my cousin would have taken the only transport to the lodge. You can drive it back to the transit’s drop-off, as long as you lock it up before you return.” 

“Great…” Jango murmured. 

Waol smiled sourly. “Do hurry, please, or else I might be required to raise the price to attract others.” 

They headed to a nearby cafe to do some research. Jango had Obi-Wan order a drink so they could actually sit down and do their research, so he ordered a tea. Meanwhile, Jango started on their research by looking up the local transit stations on his datapad. Obi-Wan looked over his shoulder the entire time and watched as Jango found the different transit stations and read their schedules aloud. Several transit stations would take them toward the game preserve but they found the one that had a stop labeled as the Kelgar Family Estate. And it was unfortunately much cheaper than if they were to take their speeder out and go through all the tolls. 

“We’ll probably have to set up camp if we’re going to walk from the stop to the lodge,” Jango sighed. 

“You seriously don’t want to just take the speeder out there?” Obi-Wan asked. He knew neither of them wanted to walk. 

“By the time we’d be returning, the reward would barely be a little more than what we spent retrieving Waol’s daughter. Besides, it looks like it’s considered a day’s journey only because the path is so winding and breaks are included. If we were to cut straight through the foliage, we still may have to camp but it won’t take an entire twenty hours.” Jango pressed a button to buy two transit tickets. “Hope your boots are good for walking.” 

Obi-Wan finished his tea a few minutes after their plans were in place so they returned to _Jaster’s Legacy_ for their supplies. Jango knew what camping supplies they would need so Obi-Wan went to grab the water and packaged food they would need for potentially a supper and breakfast and a snack for before supper. He grabbed a rucksack in a cabinet specifically for food supplies while camping to throw the food and several bottles of water into. With that set, he met back up with Jango—who awkwardly had two rolls of fabric attached to his jetpack—in the cargo bay. 

“All set?” Jango asked. 

“Are you?” Obi-Wan shot back playfully. He wasn’t looking forward to camping in an unfamiliar place and having to sit still in transit for up to an hour, and especially wasn’t looking forward to seeing if his boots would still be comfortable after walking for hours on end. 

Jango let out an amused huff, his own trepidation making his shoulders tense, but he didn’t say anything and turned to disembark the ship and locked it up after Obi-Wan was also off. 

The station they were going to was only a few blocks away. Their path was decorated with several native flowers and shrubs. It was beautiful, just as the nature preserves had to be. It reminded Obi-Wan that Chandrila was a very peaceful planet and something he was fairly accustomed to after living on Coruscant and having Jedi duties for half of his life. It was much different than what the Outer Rim worlds experienced, and therefore different than what Jango probably had to grow up with. 

“Where did you grow up, Jango?” Obi-Wan asked. He had a faint smile on his face, his neck gaiter was pulled down so he could smell the flowers as they walked by. 

“Why’s it matter?” came a quick deflect. 

“I’m just curious.” Obi-Wan shrugged. And then thinking if he explained some of his thought process, maybe Jango would open up. Though, it had to come from Dral’s perspective, not Obi-Wan’s. “I grew up on Zeffo. It was a beautiful planet, and, though it was located on the Outer Rim, it was probably a higher-end planet compared to other Outer Rim Territories. Chandrila reminds me a bit of it, actually.” 

Jango half-turned to him as they walked. “Well, then you were lucky. Not many people from the Outer Rim can say they got to grow up in the semblance of luxury.” He sounded a bit patronizing. 

Obi-Wan glanced sideways at the flowers as Jango faced forward again. The delicate pink petals reminded him of some of the flowers he would see around Coruscant in flower pots. Perhaps they weren’t a native species. They were both Core Worlds, why wouldn’t they share some of the same vegetation? Zeffo wouldn’t have the same flowers, most likely, and he had to wonder about the flowers on his birth planet, Stewjon. He heard there was a native type of red passion flower not found anywhere else. 

They went through a tunnel of prunus trees right before arriving at the station. Obi-Wan marveled at the pretty little flowers on all of the trees as they went through. Near the end, he caught Jango staring at him—and he didn’t do a good job of hiding it when they were going through the tunnel. 

“Should have stolen some of the flowers to make a crown,” he commented lamely. 

Obi-Wan tilted his head and squinted behind his visor, a shy smirk playing on his lips. Toying with the idea, he teased, “I may or may not know how to craft them. Should we come across enough durable flowers, would you like me to make you one if I make one for myself?” 

Jango’s shoulders hiked up and embarrassment emanated from him in the Force. “Only ask me in the moment…” 

“I can do that.” 

The _Mand’alor_ obviously cleared his throat. 

At the transit station, all Jango had to do was prove his identity and they were allowed through since they had proof he bought tickets. It wasn’t busy due to it not having the most popular drop-off location, so they were allowed their own cubby for the ride. They each had their own seat facing each other. Jango removed his _buy’ce_ when they began moving. Obi-Wan left his visor on, opting to dim the screen a bit so he could clearly see out the windows. 

It wasn’t a long journey and it didn’t feel long. It was maybe an hour long, if you weren’t focusing on the silence between them. Obi-Wan mostly focused on the landscape rushing past. Occasionally he felt Jango watching him but all the other times he was also looking out the window or checking his vambraces. So, when their transport came to a stop, Jango donned his _buy’ce_ once more, they gathered their supplies, and they were on their way to Waol’s lodge. 

They got dropped off at some sort of directory post. The way toward the Kelgar estate had warnings posted outside before the path started and there was clearly a spot to park whatever transport they used. In the other direction, where it was much more open, was the way to the wildlife preserve. 

Others got off the transport behind them while they stared in the direction they were supposed to be heading, both secretly dreading the upcoming walk. 

“It’s amazing, isn’t it?” Obi-Wan murmured. 

Jango looked at him, questioning silently. 

He had some time to think on the way over. Constantly he thought about the Jedi Order and what was and wasn’t good they did, but he wasn’t thinking about that this time. Instead, he had been thinking about Chandrila. If every planet was built like it, had enough wealth and was focused on peace and its economy, would there be places such as Tatooine? Would planets like the ones on the Outer Rim still try to push slavery? Originally, he thought no, but then he realized he was giving every species too much credit. Someone would be too greedy somewhere or someone wouldn’t be happy so they’d turn to illegal activities. After all, just look at the Black Sun. The biggest criminal organization and they do it all. A group like that would be just as hard to put down as ending slavery on every single planet. 

So, while all that was happening, here Obi-Wan was with Jango. They were on a Core World called Chandrila to fulfill a bounty for a rich man all because his cousin stole his daughter. Chandrila, no matter how peaceful it was, had to have some sort of peacekeeping force, yet Waol called for a bounty. They should have found a job not in the Core Worlds this time. Obi-Wan should have found a job where they could have actually made somewhat of a difference. 

“I… don’t want to think too deep into it, but it’s funny that we come all this way for one job. A little more than a week at a time on _Jaster’s Legacy_ for a job we might only spend a few days planetside, then just go right back to Outland.” 

“The jobs in the Core pay better. What we can make this way has the ability to cancel out what we spend to get to them,” Jango responded. 

“But for some rich guy who can’t call upon his planet’s own protection forces? You have to admit, Jango, it’s a bit of an odd way to think. At least out in the Outer Rim we can take down criminals.” 

Jango tilted his head. “You found us this job. And you know, we border on the line of criminals with some of the stuff we do.” 

“Yeah, well I realize now that it was a poor choice.” Obi-Wan shook his head. “But I haven’t done anything as illegal as you have yet.” 

“Yet,” Jango said, and then he was moving toward the smaller path. “It’s an amazing resolution, one we can think about later, but now we have to finish this job. And the sooner we get moving, the sooner it’s over.” 

Yeah, Obi-Wan supposed, thinking philosophically about things in their current position was pointless. He could also try to get as political as he wanted about things in the Outer Rim but he wouldn’t be able to get very far. 

Thanks to their earlier research, Jango was able to confidently guide them through the foliage in a straight direction toward the lodge. According to him, they were making good time. Obi-Wan couldn’t say anything, he wasn’t the one with the map. 

And on Chandrila, with it having a shorter rotation than Coruscant, the sun was setting four hours earlier than what they were used to. They got a good distance behind them when they found a big enough clearing to set down camp for the night. They had shoved their way through quite a bit, having opened up the snacks before they got to where they were settling and Jango was being quick about setting up because he was hungry. 

Obi-Wan focused on setting up a little spot to start a fire as Jango laid their sleeping bags out for the night. Obi-Wan thought it was weird they wouldn’t have anything over their heads for the night, but Jango, _buy’ce_ -less, gave him a challenging look in return that spoke volumes of how hungry he was. So, Obi-Wan focused on the fire and set up the contraption to heat their food up. As per Jango’s request, he heated up the piece of packaged meat before handing it over to work on his own piece of bird meat. 

Neither meal was probably too good. They could have been eaten straight out of the packaging they came in, the temperature only added a bit of flair to it. 

After they ate and washed their food down with some _shig_ (put together by Jango), they sat by the fire. Silence was something that came with Jango. It took some time for Obi-Wan to learn that. Jango might not perceive a silence as awkward or, if he did, then sometimes he would revel in the other being’s discomfort. Now, it was comfortable. Either he had his own thoughts on his mind or he wasn’t thinking at all. Obi-Wan had his visor off, so he couldn’t get away with staring at Jango and trying to figure out which it was for the man. 

“I was born on Concord Dawn,” Jango said out of the blue. Obi-Wan was braiding long pieces of grass together but stopped when he heard the other man’s voice and realized he was being watched. So, he looked up. “You asked earlier, so I’m answering now.” 

Obi-Wan gave a friendly smile. “That’s nice. Thank you, for eventually getting back to me on that.” 

“Why did it even matter in the first place?” 

“As I said earlier, I’m curious. Is it bad to know things about someone you’re traveling with? Am I not allowed to want to know things about the man I’m entrusting my life with every day?” 

Jango didn’t look taken aback, instead, he looked skeptical. It was Jango though, so Obi-Wan didn’t know if he should take it as a good or bad thing. 

“I was also trying to make conversation. I don’t know your interests, so simple talk like that is the best I can do at times.” 

Jango looked back at the fire, his eyebrows set in looking frustrated. 

“It’s pointless…” came a muttered reply. 

Obi-Wan couldn’t stop the bark of laughter that burst from his lips. Fiery eyes were on him in an instant. It wasn’t a situation he could see himself living through if he didn’t already know Jango. So, he changed the conversation. 

“Would you like a flower crown now?” 

Jango sputtered, his cheeks appeared to be heating up on their own accord as Obi-Wan smiled at him pleasantly. After no reply, Obi-Wan stood up and walked to the edge of the clearing. There were plenty of flowers to choose from but not many different colors. He decided to grab several of the longer stems with the yellow flowers and returned to the camp. Jango was half ignoring him when he returned so he decided to plop down next to the man and began twisting the stems together. 

“You know, anyone can wear a flower crown. No matter how big and tough you are, there will always be a flower to accent whatever you wish them to,” Obi-Wan said softly as he concentrated. “Blood flowers if you wish to show your personality, violets to express your devotion…” 

“Why do you know flower meanings?” Jango groaned halfheartedly. 

“I didn’t spend every waking breath learning how to wield a sword. You pick up hobbies and interests when you’re locked inside a gated establishment for up to weeks at a time, only getting sent out to serve nobles. And where there are nobles, there are flowers.” 

Satine didn’t teach him how to make flower crowns when they were on the run. He thought of that as a good thing. If Jango were to ever find out Obi-Wan used the skills of someone he hated on him, he can imagine he wouldn’t quite hear the end of it or wouldn’t hear anything (because Jango would either lash out or go silent on him). Kencha taught him, believe it or not. They meditated in the gardens of the Temple, Kencha trying to teach Obi-Wan how to be calmer. Sometimes, when they didn’t meditate, they made flower crowns—which greatly calmed Obi-Wan down more than he realized back then. 

He twisted the stems together expertly, making no mistakes and soon produced a long string of flowers. He held it up to Jango’s head to get the measurement before tying the ends together and carefully crowing Jango. Jango’s dark skin was unable to hide the blush on his cheeks. 

Obi-Wan smiled gently. “Wear it with pride, Fett. I’m sure none of your competing bounty hunters would ever confidently wear a flower crown.” 

“Because they’d rather be caught dead than wearing one.” 

“Because they don’t want to look weak.” Obi-Wan crawled back to his own sleeping bag. He admired his work one more time before looking down at the fire and accepting the fact that Jango could pull the crown off now.

“Well, they’d throw a party if they found out I know how to crochet.” 

One of the largest grins Obi-Wan ever experienced spread across his face. He looked back at Jango to wait for an explanation and found him squinting at the fire. 

“That’s your hobby then?” 

Jango gave him a side-eyed glare. Yes, a warning. The man was very clear with his silent communications. “Not a hobby. I just know how to.” 

Obi-Wan shrugged off his chest and shoulder armor and hummed noncommittally as he settled on his side. “I understand. I’ll see you in the morning.” 

He got a grunt in return. 

They didn’t take turns watching their backs over the night since it was peaceful enough. Jango settled down to sleep after he kicked some dirt into the fire. But who fell asleep first wasn’t known by Obi-Wan. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [fanart](https://bureau-pinery.tumblr.com/post/627007058174230528/jango-with-flower-crown-from-this-fic-shy-bounty) by bureau-pinery!
> 
> Translations:  
> shig - tea  
> striil - strill (a highly intelligent six-legged hunting carnivore native to Mandalore)


	11. Chapter 11

When the sun was cresting the horizon through the trees, they both stirred. Jango prepared breakfast from the packaged foods as Obi-Wan busied himself with shaking off dreams of the Darksaber. If Jango noticed the younger man acting oddly, he didn’t comment on it. They ate then packed their things so they could get moving. 

As they were packing up, Obi-Wan didn’t miss the flower crown hanging from Jango’s belt. 

They made it to the lodge a few hours before midday. Sure enough, there was an airspeeder parked outside the front. The lodge itself was made out of a native type of tree and had a small set of stairs going up to the front door. If it weren’t for the airspeeder out front, it would look fairly abandoned. 

On their walk, they discussed what they’d do with Waol’s cousin and they didn’t really come up with a solid plan. If they were shot at, then they’d have to protect themselves but what if they left without any blasters fired? Waol’s cousin could just steal his daughter again, then Waol would possibly be putting out another bounty to get his daughter back. And, if they apprehend his cousin, then what would they do with xer? If they turned xer in to the local authorities, would _they_ have to provide evidence of xer stealing the child? 

So, if they were shot at, they would act in self-defense. If xe let them go peacefully, they wouldn’t secure xer. But the strill was a bit of a different topic. If it came at them, then they would probably have no choice other than to put it down. Jango seemed a bit disappointed when they came to that decision. 

They were on the cabin’s front porch, slowly pushing the door open. Obi-Wan was the one to step through the threshold first. He hadn't even finished taking a deep breath to smell the scent of pine and furniture cleaner when a blaster bolt seared the wall next to his head. Jango had both of his pistols pulled as he scanned the room. Obi-Wan pulled out his own pistol. 

“Waol finally sent people after me?” came a laugh from the second-floor balcony. 

“Listen, we don’t know your name so if you could maybe share it with us and we can talk about this?” Obi-Wan suggested casually. He and Jango carefully walked themselves behind one of the pillars along the edge of the room. He put away his pistol and took out the prototype rifle, lowering the zoom level so he could actually see when he looked down the scope. “And, we’re not even here for you, just Waol’s child.” 

“Just call me Sable, prick.” 

“Yes, now see how easy we can work together? Putting weapons away would be the next step.” Obi-Wan had his rifle raised but in his defense, he was the one who got shot at. 

“And how can I trust you won’t just shoot me?” 

“Because we’re only here for Waol’s daughter. You can go back and steal her again once we get our reward if you wanted,” Jango answered coldly. 

Obi-Wan lowered his rifle when he heard something heavy hit the ground. Soon after, Sable came into view above. 

“And how can I trust you?” xe asked. 

“You dropped your gun and came into view, so you must trust us some,” Obi-Wan offered hopefully. 

“Where’s the _striil_?” Jango countered.

Sable chuckled darkly. “We’re in the main room, sweetie. There are several rooms you two haven’t seen yet. My dear pet could be in one of them, could be in the same room as Waol’s daughter. We need to discuss how I’m getting out of here before I reveal her location and the location of my strill.” 

“We promise to let you walk free as long as we get Waol’s daughter and the keys to the airspeeder out front,” Obi-Wan suggested. “As my partner said—and as much as I don’t like saying it—you can go steal her back as soon as we get our reward…” 

Sable glared down at them. Xe wasn’t seeming to trust them, which wouldn’t be good. Obi-Wan has never seen a strill and wasn’t sure he wanted to now. They were being rather forward with their little care for Sable and Waol’s relationship. All they truly cared about was the reward and the safety of Waol’s daughter. Sable wasn’t their responsibility. Waol never told them what to do with Sable and if xe was willing to step back and allow them to take Waol’s daughter, then things could go smoothly. 

“Tell your armored friend to go outside,” Sable ordered. 

“No can do,” Jango said with a warning in his tone. “I can’t trust you not to sic your _striil_ on him when I’m outside.” 

“Then don’t expect the child! If you drag this out, then I _will_ release my pet.” 

Obi-Wan sighed as he turned to Jango. He couldn’t use his eyes to plead because his visor was on, so he said, “Just make this easy and go outside?” 

“You’ve never had to deal with a _striil_ before, you don’t know how vicious they are. There’s a reason why they’re favored by the _Mando’ade_. Sable could be lying and could let xer _striil_ loose while you are in here alone.” 

Obi-Wan pointed down at his hips to where his blaster pistol and falchion were secured. “I have a defense. Trust me on this? _Please_ …” He stuck his hand out with his pinky up, tilting his head. 

Jango stared. “What’s this?” 

Obi-Wan smiled. “Pinky promise. You promise to trust me and I promise not to do anything stupid. I’ll get Waol’s daughter, and the keys if they aren’t in the airspeeder, and we can leave.” 

Jango hesitantly offered his pinky in return. His movements were a bit on the slow side so Obi-Wan reached and curled his pinky around Jango’s and shook them like you would shake hands. 

“Thank you,” he said softly. 

“Just don’t be stupid,” Jango replied gruffly before turning to head back outside. 

Obi-Wan watched him leave before he gave his attention to a surprised-looking Sable. Xe recovered quickly to squint at Obi-Wan as he slung his rifle—in its transport-mode—over his back. 

“Waol’s daughter, now, please,” he ordered. 

“I’ll go get her,” Sable responded. Xe turned and disappeared from view. 

Obi-Wan waited below for a few minutes. He couldn’t tell what Sable was doing exactly but xe did return eventually, and with a baby in xer arms. 

“Her name is Mun.” 

Mun didn’t make a fuss as she was passed to Obi-Wan. She simply sucked on her thumb and watched them with big, curious eyes, as her soft, yellow blanket was adjusted around her. He was glad they were able to do this peacefully because they weren’t aware Waol’s daughter was an infant. 

They took a step back from each other. Obi-Wan looked down at Mun as he asked, “But why did you take her in the first place?” 

Sable scoffed. “Waol is the highest-ranking member of my family. If anything bad happens to him, he goes to hire outside help instead of going to the local authority so word doesn’t get out and ruin his image. So, honestly, I did it to cause family drama. He’d never come to get Mun himself.” 

“Do you actually have a strill?” 

“Yeah, wanna see her?” Sable sounded excited. Obi-Wan, however, was not. 

“No, thanks.” Obi-Wan headed for the door. “Thanks for being civil about this.” 

“Yeah, sorry I shot at you.” 

Jango was waiting by the airspeeder, specifically, leaning on it with his hands resting on his holstered blasters. He pushed off the speeder to meet Obi-Wan at the bottom of the steps. 

“This is her?” he asked quietly. 

“This is Mun,” Obi-Wan introduced, lifting the baby so Jango could see her better. 

Jango hastily removed his _buy’ce_. He had an odd smile on his face as he looked at the baby. Then, to surprise Obi-Wan, he cooed at Mun and made silly faces at her. Mun made little giggles and made grabbing motions with her hands. When he caught Obi-Wan staring dumbly, he slipped his _buy’ce_ back on and stepped toward their transport. 

“What? A good _Mand’alor_ is good with children.” He jumped in the airspeeder and activated it. “Hop in. We go now and we’ll be back in the city before sunset.” He pulled out his datapad and handed it to Obi-Wan when he climbed in after. “Order us another set of tickets.” 

It took several hours to get to the post where they were dropped off at. Then they had to wait around for their transport to arrive and it took another hour to get back to the city but Jango was right about them returning before the sun set—if just barely. 

Mun, the entire time, was relaxed with them. She napped on Obi-Wan’s lap in the airspeeder until she woke up and he entertained her, both receiving occasional glances from Jango. On the transit, Jango held and played with her so Obi-Wan could get a break from holding her. The only time she cried was when she was first handed over to Jango but she got over that quickly when he removed his _buy’ce_ and smiled at her. 

As soon as they were out of the transit station, they were heading back to _Jaster’s Legacy_ to drop off the equipment they used for camping. It was pointless to keep lugging it around and Jango, probably wanting to spite Waol, didn’t want to arrive with camping equipment on their backs. The man was being petty, in Obi-Wan’s opinion. 

As they walked, Obi-Wan had Mun cradled close to his chest. He didn’t think anyone would try to steal her from his arms but it didn’t hurt to be safe. Especially with Jango right at his side, it may look like he had an imposing bodyguard. 

When they rounded one of the last corners of the streets to get to their ship, something small and spherical rolled to a stop at their feet. There was very little time to react. All Obi-Wan could do (he wasn’t sure what Jango would do) was turn his body away and shield Mun before the device exploded. White engulfed his vision and his ears rang. All of his senses were taken away, except his connection to the Force, but there wasn’t much he could gain from that. Mun’s distress was immediate and overwhelming but soon became faint. Meanwhile, his and Jango’s stress was very hard to see through. And Mun’s presence, not even seconds later, was gone. 

He didn’t know how much later it was when he could see and hear again clearly. He had been escorted until he was in the familiar and comfortable atmosphere of _Jaster’s Legacy_. His senses slowly returned to him, until he could finally see Jango sitting in the pilot’s seat next to him, pissed but otherwise unaffected. Things were still blurry and his ears sounded muffled, but they were slowly waning. Though, now there was a pounding headache between his temples. 

“Jango, where’s Mun?” was the first thing Obi-Wan asked. 

“Stolen. Did Sable imply xe was going to take her again?” Jango asked gruffly. He turned his seat and leaned forward to get a closer look at Obi-Wan. 

“Not outright. You’re the one who said xe could get her again, but not until after we got our reward.” Obi-Wan went to remove his visor so he could rub his eyes but found it already off his head. He gave Jango a look and found the man giving him one in return. “So what do we do?” 

“We return to Waol. Maybe he’ll have a lead on someone _else_ who may want to steal his kid.” Jango stood and walked away, soon returning with two small tablets and a glass of water. Obi-Wan didn’t even question what they were for, choosing to snatch and wash them down with the water. “Are you ready?” 

Obi-Wan also stood. “As ready as I am to face a father waiting for his child to be returned to him…” He began to search for his visor but that too was given to him by Jango. 

And so they went on the walk to Waol’s. Obi-Wan had to dim the screen of his visor dramatically so his headache wasn’t getting aggravated more. Jango was the one leading the way, walking with a confident stride and on high alert. 

No one was outside on the porch. The sun had fully set about an hour before, they lost some time due to the flash bomb, but it wasn’t early enough to go to bed. 

They started to get closer when the front door swung open and a Duros was there with an odd-looking pistol pointed down at them. _Mand’alor_ and ex-Jedi froze in their tracks. Waol came out the front door after the Duros, holding an occupied soft yellow blanket to his chest, and looking furious. 

“You dare attempt to steal my little girl?” Waol spat. 

“What?” Obi-Wan breathed at the same time Jango growled, “Bane.” 

“Don’t deny it! This bounty hunter had just left my place to also look for my daughter. He returned with her, telling me you two were heading back to your ship with her to leave!” 

“No, we weren’t. We were—” 

“I don’t want to hear it. Give them a warning shot, first. Feel free to bring me back their heads if you decide to chase them down. Nayli’s forces are already on their way here.” Waol then retreated inside his home with the swaddled Mun. 

The Duros fired his pistol right after the door closed and Obi-Wan felt a responding pressure in his chest. But… that wasn’t right. He looked down and there was a bullet sticking out of his armor. _An actual bullet_. _What the kriff was Cad Bane on_? No one used actual bullets anymore, blaster bolts were more popular! Though, actual bullets caused a lot more damage. Cad Bane played dirty. 

Jango lept into action. He was angry before but now he was furious. He grabbed Obi-Wan’s shoulder, pulling himself in front of the younger man and firing his WESTARs blindly. It gave Obi-Wan more time to stare down at the bullet sticking out of his armor, right above where his heart was. He pulled it out numbly to stash in his pocket for later. 

Jango was pushing them backward, away from the Waol’s residency, as he and Cad Bane exchanged blaster fire. Bane must have switched his ammunition because now he was fighting with regular blaster bolts. 

“Are you over yourself? We need to get moving!” Jango said over com. 

Obi-Wan pulled his pistol out to fire around Jango and at the Duros, who was hiding behind a pillar. 

Jango gave him a hard shove away from the house. “ _Nari_!” 

Obi-Wan staggered his first few steps but then got moving. They weren’t heading directly back to _Jaster’s Legacy_. Obi-Wan turned down the first major road he came across. He wasn’t thinking clearly but they were screwed if they couldn’t get to the ship. 

Jango eventually matched his speed and took over. He was leading them to the edge of the city. Presumably, so they could skirt along it and then get to the ship without attracting much attention. And they were going down the busiest streets and sidewalks, making it hard for Obi-Wan to keep an eye on Jango as the man pulled ahead. 

Obi-Wan was a faster runner than Jango, he was even tapping into the Force at the moment, but Jango was still outrunning him. The man was several paces ahead, taking long strides and using his jetpack to boost himself. 

A bang sounded, causing Obi-Wan’s sore chest to respond reactively. That was probably why he was having a hard time breathing. He glanced back but didn’t see anyone suspicious, so he faced forward again but Jango was already gone. Great! Losing track of Jango was the last thing he needed in a city now hostile toward him. 

He continued running forward. The best thing was to get to _Jaster’s Legacy_ now. He had extremely few ways to reunite with Jango, and running around the city might just get him into more trouble. Jango would eventually meet him on the ship, he was the best bounty hunter in the galaxy, he couldn’t be stopped by a competing bounty hunter… right? 

The back of his chestpiece was grabbed and he was roughly pulled to the side, giving him whiplash and contributing to his headache. His head spun and he was alerted of his shaking hands when Jango’s helmet came into view. Relief washed over him and he sagged against the nearest alley wall. 

Jango’s attention was on the dent in the center of Obi-Wan’s torso. “Did it pierce?” he asked, sounding frazzled. To him, it probably felt like another Battle of Galidraan. Obi-Wan felt his heart pang in response to his own thought. 

Obi-Wan shook his head minutely. He was still trying to process what happened. 

“We need to get to the ship. We wait too long and they may have her locked up permanently.” 

“I take it we’re not going to get paid?” 

Jango scoffed bitterly. “In situations like this, getting paid is the last thing to think about.” He glanced out the alley, checking their surroundings before turning back to Obi-Wan to address him amicably. “But that would be a no. We need to get moving.” 

Obi-Wan got back to his feet and followed Jango out the alley, desperately hoping they would be able to escape Nayli alive and on _Jaster’s Legacy_.

“Does Bane normally intrude on jobs like this? And does he use _bullets_ to take down the competition?” 

They were walking next to each other so Jango grabbed Obi-Wan’s shoulder tightly. It was a great way to ground him, putting a stop to some of his racing thoughts. Circle around the city, board the ship, and leave… 

“It’s not uncommon to come across competition on jobs, sometimes competition may work together on a job that may be difficult. As for your questions about bullets? Can’t say I know many who would use them on sentient species.” 

Obi-Wan put a hand over the dent in his armor. He was still short of breath so he was thankful for walking. Distantly, he felt like he was walking too closely to Jango, but he also had a close run-in with death, so shouldn’t behavior comfort be excused? 

“What’s the plan, Jango?” he asked. 

“Take some of the back ways to get to the ship then get off this planet.” 

Straightforward and to the point. It left out a lot of what-ifs, though. 

Jango started going down more back alleys, bringing them closer toward the center of the city. Pedestrians had to be aware something was happening as sirens were now occasionally audible. They were starting to head toward some of the sirens and other commotion. Most likely they were surrounding the port where their ship was parked. 

When they came to the end of the alley that would lead them to _Jaster’s Legacy_ , Jango cursed and pulled Obi-Wan back deeper into the alley. Yes, the authorities were around the structure, including several curious onlookers. 

“Remember my lessons about listening to me?” 

Obi-Wan looked at Jango skeptically. “Yeah… I know to listen to your plans and orders…” 

“Good. Now is when you are going to listen to me.” Jango looked and felt like he was steeling himself. “I’m going to act as a distraction. You will run ahead to the ship. You will fly her to the post we got dropped off at on our way to Waol’s lodge. I _will_ meet you there. Understand?” 

Obi-Wan felt cold. He dumbly shook his head. He would be leaving ~~Kencha~~ Jango behind ~~again~~. Was this the last time he was going to see Jango? _Jaster’s Legacy_ was a formidable ship, it would get him into orbit and out of harm’s way effortlessly. Last time, there were ships, but it was questionable on their ability to get him to orbit. Unlike last time, he wasn’t told to save himself. He just had to meet Jango and pick him up. But Jango had to still be alive for Obi-Wan to so that. 

“I-I can’t do that.” 

“You have to.” 

“No, you don’t understand what you’re asking of me!” Obi-Wan felt like he was going to cry. He ran his shaking hands through his hair. “It’s against what I stand for.” 

“We can talk about it later, if you wish, but we _are_ doing this, whether you like it or not. Trust is a two-way street.” Jango held out the fail-safe for _Jaster’s Legacy_ until Obi-Wan hesitantly took it. “Take your visor off and keep your head down. Don’t you dare look back, and meet me at the post. Understand?” 

Obi-Wan did as he was told, clipping his visor around his neck before he responded. “Yes.” 

Jango gave him a lighthearted push on the shoulder toward the mouth of the alley. “Then go. I will follow.” 

The bystanders paid Obi-Wan no mind as he slipped into their midst. It was as he got closer he started to worry. Jango hadn’t gotten the law enforcement’s attention yet, so those on duty were on high-alert and not letting people through without any form of identification. Waol would’ve had information on Dral since he was the one who marked the bounty, out of him and Jango. 

Obi-Wan gritted his teeth, nearly missing the quiet “there you are” behind him. He turned before his attacker could land a hit, grabbing the fist of none other than Cad Bane. 

“It was obvious you two would return here. Though, I thought Fett was smarter than this,” he sighed. 

“Well, I’m not Fett.” 

It was like fate (but was it really? He may not have planned it but the other party of the plan did). Jango appeared out of nowhere, grabbing Bane by the wrist and taking off with the aid of his jetpack. Bane let go of Obi-Wan out of shock but called out to the authorities about the appearances of Fett and Khor as he was comically lifted away. Since he was still relatively hidden in the crowd, Obi-Wan was ignored by the officers and escaped inside the building. 

There were no guards in the hangar _Jaster’s Legacy_ was in so he was able to board without any issues. He sat in the pilot’s seat, plugged the fail-safe into the correct spot, and started it up. 

One important thing to note was that Obi-Wan has never flown _Jaster’s Legacy_ before. He was only shown _how_ to, and answered plenty of questions for Jango so the other man could judge how much he knew. So when the engines started up and it was ready to fly, Obi-Wan simply stared at the console, almost too fearful to fly it. But, seeing as Jango’s freedom (and possibly life) depended on him getting to the meeting spot, he had no choice other than to fly it. And like any other time Jango would fly it, the ship lifted off its landing gears smoothly and flew on a hair-trigger. 

It didn’t take long to get to the meeting spot. That was a good thing. _Jaster’s Legacy_ had good, reliable engines. But that meant Obi-Wan had to put the landing gears back down and sit there as he waited for Jango. Sitting and waiting, without the option to meditate, never seemed to turn out good. He had patience, most of the time. 

He was on the ninth restart of a long train of thought that started with Jango’s plan and ended with Obi-Wan returning to Roz to tell her Jango was either captured or dead (a few previous of his trains of thoughts ended with him also restrained with Jango or killed with Jango on Chandrila) when the promised transport was coming into view with a shiny figure on the top, and it was coming in fast. Obi-Wan lept into action, waking the engines of the ship, raising the landing gears, and lifted off the ground. He had a feeling the railcar wouldn’t stop. 

With the boarding ramp extended, Obi-Wan matched the speed of the transport and flew alongside it. He used his senses to tell when Jango was aboard so he could retract the boarding ramp and pick up speed. Jango didn’t rejoin him until they were in orbit and Obi-Wan was scanning a listing of other bounties, sitting back in the co-pilot’s seat, because he was unsure of their next moves. 

Jango sat in his seat, helmet-less and radiating warmth. Obi-Wan refused to look at him. 

“You did good,” the _Mand’alor_ complimented. He didn’t get a response, so he continued, “Thank you for following my orders. And you piloted _Jaster’s Legacy_ well.” 

Obi-Wan half-glared at Jango as he momentarily mulled over the ship’s name and came up with nothing to think about. “I prefer we not do something like that again.” He tapped a few things on the console. “Sending a few jobs to your datapad. Might as well do one more before we return to Outland.” 

Jango was definitely confused by the other man’s closed-off attitude but he didn’t say anything as he pulled out his datapad and went over what Obi-Wan sent. 

“I like the one on Hoth.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Jaster's Legacy (and the comments Roz makes about it in Jango's video game) makes me sad. You think that if it hadn't got destroyed, Boba would be piloting it after Jango passed? 
> 
> Translations:  
> striil - strill (a highly intelligent six-legged hunting carnivore native to Mandalore)  
> Mando'ade - Mandalorians, the sons and/or daughters of Mandalore  
> nari - move


	12. Chapter 12

The job on Hoth was for a company by the name of Star Tours. 

But, before they stopped on the planet, they had to stop somewhere to get the proper clothes that would keep them alive. So Jango flew them to Coruscant for a quick stop. While they were there, they stayed by one another’s side as they shopped. That way, they were able to watch their backs and also buy the same layers. Thankfully, they didn’t encounter any Jedi. 

After a week of travel, they were at Hoth. The icy planet below them looked peaceful, but Obi-Wan knew how deadly it was. Not much was known about the planet, as he and Jango figured out after doing some research, but what was known about it wasn’t good. It was icy and harsh enough to kill anyone unsuspecting of the planet’s natural movements or someone unprepared for the temperature. The moons pulled on the surface, causing it to shift, and oceanic activity caused the landscape to shift constantly. And, pretty much to make matters worse, the temperature could reach _very_ below freezing at night. The temperature seemed to be Jango’s biggest concern. 

And Star Tours wasn’t the most helpful bounty issuer. It was a small company and the ones in charge refused to meet with Jango and Obi-Wan. All they wanted—and what the bounty stated—was the wampas near their resort dealt with. It was enough information to go off of, but Jango wasn’t too happy getting brushed off. According to him, it would be nice to know how close the wampas were and how aggressive the creatures were. And according to the post, they were dealing with a family of about twelve wampas. 

When they landed at the resort (right before a blizzard was beginning to move in), no one was there to greet them. The staff that dealt with keeping the resort clean and running was around, but they didn’t come to greet the pair directly. If anything, most gave the two a stink-eye and continued with their jobs. Not the friendliest of people, especially toward the ones who are supposed to get rid of the predators chasing away their business… 

“I don’t like the looks of these people. The sooner we kill the wampas, the sooner we can come back to the ship and leave,” Jango grumbled, his voice heavily modified by his helmet’s microphone. 

Obi-Wan tilted his head and used the Force to poke at the nearby workers. He didn’t sense anything bad about them. Jango was just sour about the weather and not getting to interrogate anyone. 

Before they stepped off the ship, they had to make sure their camping supplies were packed. With the freezing temperatures, they had to pack and wear extras. It was going to make their journey take almost twice as long, and unless the wampas were suicidal, the job twice as long, too. 

Obi-Wan was wearing several sets of thermals under his utility and snow pants. He had to get a pair of snow boots and was wearing several pairs of socks so his toes didn’t get cold. On his upper body, he was wearing the matching thermals to the ones on his lower body and a few different hooded long sleeve shirts under his snow jacket. All of it he had to buy on Coruscant, including a pair of snow gloves, because the clothes he had packed for Chandrila wouldn’t suffice. 

Jango, similarly, was wearing the new clothes he also bought on Coruscant but working around his armor (unlike Obi-Wan, who left his armor and vest carrying his lightsabers on the ship). He, too, had on several pairs of thermals, thick pants, and hoodless long sleeves, under the jumpsuit he attached his _beskar’gam_ to. But, over his armor and jumpsuit, he wore snow pants and a snow jacket that was fitted and sealed around his jetpack. It was odd, but useful, seeing as they attached water bottles to his jetpack so they stayed warm. 

They donned their usual weapons, Jango having to fix his holsters and utility belt to his snow pants awkwardly, before they left _Jaster’s Legacy_ with their equipment on their backs. 

The resort looked eerily abandoned as long as you ignored the workers occasionally visible. Jango commented on how slippery everyone seemed but Obi-Wan was too busy getting a feel for the resort to acknowledge him. And he felt what it looked like; quiet, eerie, on edge. He reached behind him to touch his prototype rifle—strap only slung over one shoulder due to the supplies on his back—to remind himself that it was there. He was only armed with it, his pistol, and his falchion. Jango was only armed with his WESTAR-34 blasters and any hidden gadgets hidden in his vambraces under his coat. 

From the resort, they began to head east into the frozen plains. The plan was to skirt along the edge of the plains to reach a path up into the mountains where the wampas presided in ice caves. They both knew it wouldn’t be as easy as that but they had to have goals to meet. Plus, it wasn’t guaranteed the landscape would be as it was described to them. 

Obi-Wan’s footing wasn’t confident as they ventured out of the resort and into snow several feet deep. He wasn’t sure about Jango’s own feelings, the man was fairly muted in the Force at the moment, and he didn’t want to ask. But Jango led the way as if he were confident with where they were going, so he followed along without complaint. 

But soon the blizzard was moving through. They were on the edge of it but it slowed them down even more. Jango kept them moving, Obi-Wan followed a bit closer until the wind was calmer and he was able to see Jango again. It couldn’t have been more than ten Basic minutes but with the unsure visibility, it felt a lot longer than that. 

Hoth seemed like it was actively trying to keep them at the resort without changing the landscape, Obi-Wan mused. He felt as if he was a marching soldier as he lifted his feet every time to take a step. It was a thought that made him smile behind the scarf protecting his lower face. 

When the blizzard was officially not affecting them anymore, he turned to look at the open scenery. The snow sparkled, even though the sun was mostly hidden behind clouds. It would be blinding if Obi-Wan’s visor had been clear. 

Oh, and Obi-Wan’s visor was also a topic he could think about. Jango helped him understand his HUD, helping add some applications to it like a half-decent motion tracker, body temperature tracker, local temperature tracker, vital stats, local time, Basic time, the date, and a few other optional things. They were a bit distracting at first but he got over them and appreciated them when he was in the field. Nothing like having numbers in front of your eyes when you have access to the Force to tell you some of the same things. 

The plains were a lot bigger than what Obi-Wan originally thought. His energy was getting drained with each step, thanks to his feet sinking into the soft snow. Jango wasn’t having the easiest time—he had some of their heaviest supplies, after all—but he wasn’t slowing down or looking back to check on Obi-Wan. 

“What are our plans?” he asked. Some of his tiredness was in his voice, something his internal Jedi chided himself on, but part of him didn’t care. 

Jango finally glanced back at him. “Traverse the hostile expanse of Hoth to reach the group of wampas we were hired to kill.” 

“We won’t reach the top of the mountain in a day.” 

“I know.” Jango sighed. He stopped suddenly to look down at his wrist and pressed a button. “Might take a day or two to get to the top, and I think it’d be best if we camped before we start to ascend. Might get a full night of sleep before we have to take turns watching for wampas.” He looked up, visor pointing toward Obi-Wan. “Are you good to continue on?” 

Obi-Wan cleared his throat awkwardly. Jango was blatantly calling his attitude out. “Yeah. I was just curious. Snow’s making it hard but it’s not impossible to continue.” 

“Good. It’d be great to not take a break until tonight.” 

Tonight. Several more hours from now. They landed on Hoth around a standard hour before midday and didn’t get moving until an hour later. It wasn’t an attractive plan but Obi-Wan had no major disagreements with it. He just had to keep his mind busy for a couple of hours… 

“Have you been to many cold or frozen planets?” Obi-Wan asked. 

“For occasional jobs. Hoth probably takes the cake for the worst,” Jango grumbled in answer. “They say it’s unknown but it’s a smuggler’s paradise.” 

“Worst because of the shifting landscape or because of the amount of criminal activity it attracts?” 

“Landscape. The criminals that come here either don’t know what they’re getting into or they prefer to ignore each other in favor of surviving.” 

There couldn’t be many hideouts for criminals if the surface of Hoth was unstable as data about it made it sound. Star Tours was lucky, their resort seemed to be on the only really stable piece of ground. Other places, Obi-Wan couldn’t be so sure. There were oceans deep beneath thick crusts of ice that could break through at any moment. They were heading near one of the oceans. Obi-Wan hoped the surface of Hoth would stay calm for the duration of their hunt. 

Several hours passed, and after walking with no breaks, they stopped to make camp. They set up a tent together and Jango headed inside to set things up in there. Obi-Wan stayed outside to stare at the shore of an ocean in the distance, colored orange in the sunset. A chill went down his spine at the thought of the ice cracking under their feet. They were to cross a portion of it tomorrow so they could get to the path going up the mountain. Jango estimated they would be on the ice for an hour at most, as long as they kept moving. 

Jango called him into the tent before his thoughts could turn existential (or along the lines of Hoth’s oceanic creatures breaking through the ice and either swallowing them alive or pulling them under the ice to drown). It still could happen, though. They weren’t _that_ far from the ocean and some of the data about Hoth hinted at the entire planet being a frozen ocean. 

Obi-Wan sat on his sleeping bag automatically and took his supplies off his back. 

“I thought you grew up on a cold planet? Zeffo?” 

Obi-Wan blinked, getting pulled from his head. “Huh?” 

“You’re acting shell-shocked about Hoth. It’s a cold planet like any other.” Jango made a motion toward the rations in Obi-Wan’s supplies. When a ration bar was given to him, he continued, “I looked up Zeffo. It’s nowhere near as bad as Hoth, but every Outer Rim planet has its downsides. What’s derailing you?” 

“On Zeffo I didn’t have to worry about the crust of the planet shifting due to volcanic activity or creatures in the ocean.” 

Jango shrugged. “If it does, then it does. We can’t do anything about it.” 

They couldn’t, but there were ways to get out of immediate danger. The power in Jango’s jetpack was split between keeping their water bottles from freezing and maintaining a normal temperature within itself so it also doesn’t freeze. There was a travel-sized solar panel hooked up to it to help regenerate some fuel but it wouldn’t be a lot if he had to use it to escape. Obi-Wan, meanwhile, technically didn’t have anything to save him if the ground suddenly disappeared beneath his feet. While the Force was ready and willing to boost his abilities to help him get out of danger, he couldn’t risk suddenly jumping like he had springs in his legs. 

Obi-Wan decided that mumbling about Jango’s chances to escape being significantly higher than his own was pointless. Instead, he grabbed himself a ration bar too and started to eat. He caught sight of their MREs that would be for the mornings. 

After their small final meal, they went about settling for the night and taking off some of their layers to sleep. Their little lantern as a light source was powered down. Obi-Wan crawled into his sleeping bag and pressed the button to activate the integrated heating function. He waited several minutes for it to activate and nothing happened. 

He glanced over at Jango. The other man was already in his sleeping bag with his back to Obi-Wan but clearly not asleep yet. 

“Jango, my heater doesn’t work.” He didn’t mean for it to come out as a whisper but at the same time, he wasn’t interested in aggravating the _Mand’alor_. 

It was dark in the tent but Obi-Wan could see Jango turn over just enough so he could look at Obi-Wan. “What do you mean?” 

“I mean my sleeping bag isn’t heating up after I pressed the button nearly ten minutes ago.” 

“You tested and charged it, right?” 

“Yes.” Obi-Wan sighed at the implication that he wouldn’t have made sure his sleeping bag would do its proper function. Why would he not make sure it worked when it was a main source of warmth for him at night? No matter… he can just power through it… 

“Come over here.” 

“It’s fine.” He snuggled into the fabric, starting to feel the chill seep through it. If he went to sleep right away, he could hopefully ignore the cold through the night. 

Jango made a noise and the next thing Obi-Wan knew, his sleeping bag was getting pulled toward the other man. 

“Mine’s big enough for us both. Get in, or else you’ll freeze your ass off for the rest of the night.” 

Obi-Wan shakily extracted himself from his sleeping bag and slipped into Jango’s carefully. His cheeks heated up almost immediately, but thankfully Jango wasn’t able to see. Their backsides were almost touching but they couldn’t scoot away from each other more. He just focused on the warmth around him and yes, he definitely would have frozen his ass off in his own sleeping bag.

Obi-Wan cleared his throat awkwardly. “Thank you.” 

Jango sighed in return, “Just go to sleep, and don’t tell Roz.” 

He wouldn’t dream of it. 

Thanks to the working sleeping bag, it didn’t take Obi-Wan long to fall asleep. He may have had to listen to the whispers in the Force to drown out Jango’s presence, but he stayed asleep the entire time (despite dreaming about the Darksaber again, specifically with it getting used to threaten and harm Jango and Roz). Though, Jango complained about him squirming in his sleep when they were each eating an MRE the next morning. After they ate, they put their layers back on, packed up their things, and headed out. 

The morning air of Hoth was as cold as the temperature at night. The rising sun shined in their eyes as they headed for the ocean. Obi-Wan had to dim his visor even more so he could see against the snow and not fall behind. 

The frozen surface of the ocean was partially slippery and partially gritty with frost. It was disorienting, and a bit frustrating from slipping one second to walking normally the next, but they were only on the ice for only about an hour. Though, Jango again powered through the terrain like he has traversed ice specifically before. Obi-Wan didn’t fall, thankfully, but he could have been faster. 

The mountain path they were to go up was steeper than they thought. It wasn’t for public access, if having to traverse the ocean wasn’t sign enough. It was more of a maintenance path. There were narrow stairs to go up but ice and snow were frozen to them in several places, making it much more difficult to use the stairs. Luckily, there was a plain incline next to the stairs, presumably for quick trips down or for small transports. 

They stopped for a quick snack break when they reached the top of the incline. The wind was harsh against their skin. Obi-Wan had to pull his scarf down and did it very reluctantly. Jango lifted his helmet just enough so he could take a bite before he would lower it and repeated the actions until he finished a ration bar. It was comical but Obi-Wan’s face was getting whipped by the wind the longer he had his scarf pulled down so Jango was most likely the warmer one. 

“So, what do you dream about?” Jango asked while they were still giving their feet a break. 

Obi-Wan kept his gaze on the path, thinking his possible words through. “Sometimes my family. Other times a weapon that might cause their demise.” Not entirely the truth or a lie. Roz said they were family, and he still didn’t understand the reason why the Darksaber was in his dreams so often, and he dreamed of members from the Order and he considered them family at one point, if not still. 

Jango grunted in acknowledgment as he began to get ready to leave. 

They found signs of wampa not long after they got moving again. Horn ruts could be seen in the glacial inclines and Jango pointed out old blood and parts of a skeleton. There were a lot more ruts in the ice the longer they walked and Obi-Wan was able to spot a lot more blood, too. It was alarming, especially when they came across tufts of wampa fur and Jango visibly teetered on losing his shit. 

They came to a maintenance catwalk. It wasn’t steep like the stairs were, built on the side of the mountain so you had to walk over the cliffs below. That was the good part. The bad part was that the catwalk was narrow and had several sharp turns, so they weren’t able to see around some bends ahead of time. It meant they wouldn’t be able to see if a wampa was also on the catwalk or a wampa overtop of them would be able to drop down and get the better of them. 

Obi-Wan detected nervousness coming from Jango as they began to walk the catwalks. He thought about things to say. One topic came up. It didn’t seem like the best idea but maybe talking about anything would calm Jango. 

“My first teacher, at my academy, or whatever you want to call it, we got into a bad situation on our last day together. He sacrificed himself to save me, and I let him die in vain.” 

Jango turned his upper body sharply to look at Obi-Wan, almost slipping on the slick metal. “Is that supposed to make me feel good about my future?” 

“I’m just trying to take your mind off the catwalk, make conversation. We’ve both been a bit secretive about our pasts. I’m hanging some of my laundry out to dry and for you to see. If something bad were to happen on this hunt, you’ll at least know how bad of a student I really am.” 

The Mandalorian huffed, shaking his head as he faced forward and reached out to the railing to keep himself steady as they walked over ice. “Everyone’s a bad student. My _buir_ —my dad—had to deal with a bloodthirsty, asshole orphan.” 

Obi-Wan chuckled. “The tale of two orphans… We’ll have to share stories at a later date.” 

“Maybe…” came a reply along the lines he was hoping to hear. 

Jango eventually mused about making them turn around to find a place to make camp for the rest of the night but Obi-Wan encouraged the man to keep moving. So they did, and they thankfully didn’t come across any wampas. But they were on the catwalk for so long, it was dark when they were on solid land again. After a bit of walking, they managed to find a shallow cave to make camp in for the night. 

Jango set up the tent as deep in the cave as he could while Obi-Wan set up a little heater in the center of the cave to start warming the area for whoever would watch for the night (which he was going to try to make it him). Now that they were getting closer to the wampas, they would have to take turns on watch during the night. 

They sat down by the heater to eat a ration bar each. Obi-Wan’s eyes went to a few of the little curls sticking to Jango’s forehead when he took his _buy’ce_ off. 

“I want to take first watch,” Obi-Wan said a second after Jango took a bite. Brown eyes focused on him and shone with annoyance. 

“Are you sure about that? You _can’t_ fall asleep on watch, and I noticed how you’re struggling through the snow.” 

“My body is tired but my mind is not. I wouldn’t be able to fall asleep if I tried.” 

“And sitting with your thoughts until it’s time to wake me up would make you tired?” Jango snorted. 

Obi-Wan shrugged. “It’s called calming your mind. Wouldn’t be hard to do that while keeping watch.” 

Jango frowned as he crumpled up the ration bar’s wrapper and pocketed it. “Fine. Wake me when it’s my turn.” 

“Wouldn’t dream of letting you get your beauty sleep…” Obi-Wan sighed. His defective sleeping bag was tossed at the back of his head so he had something to wrap himself up in. 

He listened to Jango as he entered the tent, removing his outer layers before he settled in his sleeping bag. Obi-Wan himself wrapped his sleeping bag around himself and shuffled close to the heater, beginning to clear his mind to meditate. 

He had no intention of waking Jango. It wasn’t because he was feeling petty or wanting to punish Jango. He just wanted to be alone with his thoughts and let Jango sleep. The journeying on Hoth may drain Obi-Wan’s energy more than he would like to admit but some simple, successful meditating should earn him some back that sleeping could. 

Entering meditation was a bit rough. He also left his Force-sensitive pebble on the ship, the object he commonly used to center himself when he meditated with Jango somewhere nearby. So, he decided to focus on Jango’s nearby presence, giving up some anxieties about Jango detecting him. 

When he finally concentrated enough and was sure he wouldn’t levitate things around him, he slipped into meditation and was greeted by the Force instantly. It reached out to him as always; careful, like his very being would sear the essence of it. Maybe that could happen if he were to be negative enough. He always thought the Force was more cautious with him than the other Jedi. He never expressed that to Qui-Gon, but he mentioned something to Kencha about it, before he was truly aware of how the Force seemed to regard him. 

Kencha responded simply. The Force works in mysterious ways. It gets to decide how many midi-chlorians are in one’s blood. Maybe the Force had a special interest in him. Who knew… 

It didn’t help that some—if not half of the Order—thought Kencha was crazy and slowly losing his mind. Obi-Wan wondered if Kencha’s state of mind had something to do with him having a hard time getting a new Master. 

Kencha was never aware of Obi-Wan’s changing midi-chlorian count. They never had reason to check it again after the initial test. He had been a semi-controlled Padawan under Kencha, and back then his instability was blamed on not having enough teaching with the Force yet. It wasn’t until after he returned from Ryloth, without Kencha, and seemed completely unable to wield the Force like he used to, it was decided that all things on his record should be edited and therefore all his skills tested again like he was a youngling. _Then_ it was discovered they had a particular Padawan on their hands. And then he was sent off to the AgriCorps because he and Qui-Gon refused each other and the Council was going to let the workers there deal with Obi-Wan. 

The Force around him recoiled as if it was hurt by his thoughts. It almost startled Obi-Wan out of his meditation. 

He didn’t blame the Force for pulling away but he blamed the Force for some of his problems. Without it, he could have lived happily with his family on Stewjon. If the Force hadn’t changed his midi-chlorian count so much, maybe he could’ve been a good Padawan for Qui-Gon. If his midi-chlorian count stayed the same, maybe he would still be a Jedi. 

That was a low blow and he knew it but also didn’t care. The Force united every living thing, but it didn’t _have_ to inflict someone with enough midi-chlorians to become a Jedi. The worst thing about it was that it wasn’t supposed to change someone’s midi-chlorian count several times. His midi-chlorian count should be to blame, but it’s the Force that makes it so. 

Obi-Wan focused on Jango asleep in the tent, letting his mind calm and feeling the Force surround himself again like a comforting, old blanket. It was unfair how accepting the Force was. Obi-Wan was just blaming his failures on it and here it was trying to reconcile with him. Do Sith, users of the Force that take from and abuse it, get treated the same way? How _was_ it fair, when Obi-Wan has reached out to the dark side several times, and the first time several innocents were killed? 

He exuded anger into the Force, trying to push it away and give himself room to think. The opposite happened, the Force closed in on him like it was trying to get him to listen to _something_. 

Obi-Wan cracked his eyes open, still half-meditating, to check their surroundings. Nothing was in front of him and a quick scan with the Force revealed no nearby wampas. Jango was still asleep, so he focused on the Mandalorian and allowed the Force to envelop him. 

He hated relinquishing his control to the Force, but he felt it allowing—reassuring—him to keep ahold of Jango, so he succumbed. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This little arc got a bit away from me so it's longer than intended. Because of that, it also had to be split into two chapters but this time it was less purposeful. That, unfortunately, means the more exciting stuff is in the next chapter. Depending on how far I get on future chapters, you might get the next part next week! (That's what I hope, at least. I don't want these two chapters to be separate for very long.)
> 
> p.s. sorry for any possible confusion regarding my use of gauntlet and vambrace. as a once-staunch destiny player, when I see armor near or on the wrist, I immediately refer to it as a gauntlet. I tend to use them interchangeably. **Instances, where I used gauntlets instead of vambraces, have been changed.**
> 
> Translations:  
> beskar'gam - armor made of beskar; Mandalorian iron  
> buir - father or mother; parent


	13. Chapter 13

His head felt warm and stuffy as the Force invaded his senses. It felt loving, like he was in the embrace of an old friend. It wasn’t ideal. It was like he was trapped in his head, sporting a fever and all he could do was ride out the suffering. But he couldn’t decide if he was comfortable. 

Indecipherable images danced behind his eyes. He saw blaster bolts flying through the air on an orange planet, wars being waged, and a duel between two beings each wielding a lightsaber. They all flashed by until he was imagining himself next to a pool in one of the Temple meditation gardens. He was imagining himself as a Padawan, freshly chosen by Kencha since he recognized the cheap little party bracelet on his wrist. His hair, still a fiery caramel, was several inches shorter than what he was currently maintaining. Though Kencha wasn’t anywhere to be found. So Obi-Wan sat next to the pool and looked down at his reflection, grimacing at how serious his young face looked. 

The Force was whispering to him but he couldn’t understand what it was trying to say. It was starting to grate on his nerves. If the Force had anything to say to him, then it should stop being cryptic. Who knows how long this little journey will take, and since he could still easily feel that little focus point on Jango in the back of his mind, he could be able to pull himself from meditation whenever. 

The Force seemed to get the message. Kencha came through the brush the next moment. He looked so much different than what Obi-Wan has been seeing in his dreams. He looked the same as he did the day he accepted Obi-Wan as his Padawan. He looked healthy, actually showing emotions, and had color to his face. His expressive eyes were alive with excitement and joy, all because he was looking at his Padawan. 

Obi-Wan felt himself frown. _Get to the point._

Kencha tipped his head as he moved to sit next to Obi-Wan. He had flowers in his hand. “What is wrong, little one? Are you not glad to see me?” 

“I am very glad,” Obi-Wan assured him immediately. “But I don’t want to get attached. The Force is trying to show me something. I hope it gets a move on before Jango wakes, or else it might not get to tell me.” 

The Kiffar tilted his head as he was starting to bend the flowers together. “You think so? Well, _you_ are the special one, you would be the one to know.” 

Obi-Wan watched the construction of a pale blue flower crown that he knew was going to end up on his head. 

He was aware this was an alteration of a past event. The day he was accepted as Kencha’s Padawan, he came to the meditation gardens to cope. Qui-Gon said he was too aggressive to be his Padawan, so Kencha, after watching a recording of the spar, found Obi-Wan to accept him. Obi-Wan, overwhelmed after hours of getting to know his Master, came to the meditation gardens to calm down. Kencha managed to find him and began to talk of Obi-Wan’s potential as he began to craft an orange and red flower crown. After he praised Obi-Wan’s skills and expressed excitement for their future, he crowned Obi-Wan and then left to give his Padawan space. 

“I’m not.” 

Kencha stuttered his movements then tsked. “So you’ve always said, but the boy I got to know always led me to _not_ believe your words.” 

“The boy you knew was naive and ill-fitted to be a Jedi.” 

Kencha finished the crown. He held it up for inspection and nodded at his work. He held it out to Obi-Wan, who obediently leaned forward for it to be placed on his head. 

“See, you are a remarkable Force user. I’m sad to see that you still don’t know how to properly use it, but I understand your fear of it. It can be a thin line between the light and dark. I think the Jedi expect too much sometimes and you suffered for that.” 

Obi-Wan looked away and to the pool. He could see a few brightly colored fish swimming just beneath the surface. 

“I wish I was your Master a bit longer. There were so many things I wished to teach you… so many things that not even Qui-Gon could have passed to you…” 

A scoff escaped Obi-Wan’s mouth. “Qui-Gon wanted me off his hands as soon as possible. He didn’t care for me. All I did was make his life miserable.” 

Kencha hummed. “I won’t deny that. But I’m not Qui-Gon, so I can’t speak for him.” He leaned to the side, plucking small grey flowers. “Though he had some good messages, I can’t deny that. I don’t think you picked up on all of them.” 

“Oh yeah? Like what?” Obi-Wan challenged. He could detect Kencha leaning forward to add the new flowers to the crown Obi-Wan was already wearing. 

“Open your heart up, for one. Qui-Gon wasn’t a conventional Jedi, he wouldn’t have stopped you from experimenting and finding someone to care about.” 

Obi-Wan felt his cheeks heat up and he sputtered. Kencha continued, a small smile detectable in his voice, “And trust in yourself and the Force. Pay more attention to the Living Force. Stop focusing on the past, move forward. Your midi-chlorian count is an issue, but why worry about the part where it changes? Take advantage of the numbers and increase your abilities with the Force! You have excellent precognition senses, focus them more, and stop worrying whether they’re true or not. Your visions tend to be truer than the average Jedi’s.” 

“There are some things I shouldn’t do anymore, now that I’m learning under Jango,” Obi-Wan said lamely. His first Master picked up on how little effort was put into the response, but he had to know Obi-Wan’s situation since they were essentially in his head. 

“That fool? I understand it’s dangerous but simply starting off the day in deep meditation or meditating during hyperspace should do the trick. You close off that ability for too long and, worst-case scenario, you completely lose that gift.” 

“I wouldn’t call Jango a fool…” 

“I know he’s not. I just wanted to see if you’d defend him. He’s a good man with good morals and a supportive family.” Kencha stood suddenly, almost silently. “Please listen to my words, little one. It wasn’t very easy summoning the Force like this from the grave. You should start by opening up your heart first, and hopefully the rest will follow.” 

Before Kencha could disappear, Obi-Wan surged up and wrapped his arms around Kencha’s waist, burying his face in the man’s side and getting a whiff of familiar spices. He wanted to start balling, and his shoulders shook like he was. The man’s hands came down, one on Obi-Wan’s shoulder and the other to brush through the short ginger hair. So maybe Obi-Wan was crying but he won’t be the one to say so. 

He looked up into those eyes full of emotion as he felt the Force starting to relinquish its hold on him. Kencha’s gentle smile was full of so much love, tinged with regret as the corners of his lips slanted downwards. 

Then it was over. Obi-Wan took a deep breath and opened his eyes. The sky was getting lighter. He meditated through the night, it seemed. It was all fresh in his mind and wasn’t going to drift away like dreams did. Good. 

He sat there until the sun was rising and Jango was waking. He could feel the man’s reactions. First, he was calm as he woke, like one is from being well-rested, but then alarm and anger took over. He was rising from his sleeping bag and dressing quickly. Obi-Wan worked to brush off his feelings from meditation and sat differently so he didn’t look suspicious when he was greeted. 

“Why didn’t you wake me?” Jango demanded as soon as his head was out from the tent. His brown eyes were alive and scalding. 

“I thought you could use the rest,” Obi-Wan answered calmly. He reached into his pack to dispense the MREs. 

“Yeah, but you need it too.” Jango stubbornly sat by the heater and accepted his breakfast. “We can’t sit and wait around for you to take a nap.” 

“I don’t need a nap.” It came out sounding a lot like he was snapping at Jango and it appeared, by looking at his face, the other man detected that. “We can keep moving as if we both got the proper amount of sleep.” 

“Then you can’t go falling behind.” He tore the packaging open while keeping his eyes on Obi-Wan. “That’s not acceptable when there could be wampas around, willing to rip us to shreds.” 

“You won’t have to worry about me.” 

They ate their breakfast quickly and packed up camp together. Jango was once again in the lead but Obi-Wan was right on his heels as they got moving. 

They were headed toward a landform that looked like a mixture between a valley of a canyon and a cavern. It was clearly made of ice. Where there was ceiling, and not ominous open holes overhead, it was a colored blue like the sky and Jango’s jumpsuit. Large icicles hung from the ceiling, some having formed stalagmites beneath them. 

Jango was tense as he brought them to a stop at the mouth of the cavern. “There might be wampas in there. Get your rifle ready and _stay by my side_. My WESTARs don’t have the power to take a wampa down.” 

Obi-Wan pulled the rifle off his back and pressed the button to unravel the components into the shape of a gun. It hummed in his hands, noticeably working to keep itself warm. He hoped the temperature of Hoth making the heatsink work in the background won’t risk their chances of survival when he has to shoot the rifle. 

They hugged the right side of the cavern when they entered it. Jango had a hand on Obi-Wan’s arm pretty much the entire time. His excuse was to keep Obi-Wan at his pace since he seemed to be the one slipping more. And maybe that was true but Obi-Wan would have only been a pace or so behind if Jango wasn’t so insistent on pulling him along. 

They encountered only one wampa in the short cavern. They saw it first. Obi-Wan already had his rifle raised and Jango let out a sharp whistle—distorted by his helmet’s microphone—to get the wampa’s attention. The creature raised its head and snarled at them, just a second before Obi-Wan pulled the trigger. Its body crumpled after the bolt landed between its eyes. 

Obi-Wan just about lost his grip on his rifle. The recoil of it was so strong, it almost flew out of his hands and punched his shoulder like a combatant would. The sound of it firing was sharp, a high-pitched whir that Jango flinched away from. The heatsink inside was humming lowly but not showing any damage or blinking in warning not to fire another. Compared to the calculations he made on it during hyperspace travel, it cooled down faster than it would in habitable temperatures. 

“Good shot,” Jango commended. It sounded like he was right next Obi-Wan’s ear but he had shied away when Obi-Wan fired. 

Back in daylight, they were getting closer to the top of the mountain, specifically the slopes where Star Tours does their activities down the mountain. It was much clearer that the wampas were up here. Their tracks were everywhere in the snow and there were many more carcasses than what they saw the cycle earlier. 

A sinking feeling entered Obi-Wan’s gut. His hands felt sweaty in his gloves, despite the temperate conditions in them. In the cavern, there was only one wampa, and to him, it looked small. Out here, there would be several wampas and only one of his rifle. There would be more, and several bigger ones, most likely. 

“What’s the plan?” he breathed. 

Jango was looking around the slopes. His hand found Obi-Wan’s shoulder and he squeezed. Obi-Wan made a mental note to count all the times Jango may have reached out to touch his arms or shoulders. He didn’t initially take Fett for a touchy-feely man but maybe he got that image wrong. “Focus on one trail and hope to only deal with one wampa at a time.” 

Obi-Wan nodded, mostly to himself, and followed Jango as he focused on a set of prints. 

The ‘system’ established by the wampas was semi-chaotic but they seemed to have different nests. It led to easier hunting of them but also making it difficult due to the volume of Obi-Wan’s rifle. Though, not all of the nests were occupied. The first nest they approached had plenty of activity around it, but not a wampa in sight. Jango was understandably frustrated. But they continued to approach other nests, taking out seven other wampas. That left four more wampas, if the bounty posting was correct. 

They were standing at the top of the mountain where the main slope for Star Tours led down to the resort. Large enough for thrill-seekers and for those wanting to take their time down the mountain. It was unfair that it took them several days to get up the mountain when it would only take thirty minutes going down the main slope at full-speed. But Star Tours had to deactivate the lift because the wampas damaged certain parts and if the lift was even operable they would have been spotted first. 

“How will we get down?” Obi-Wan asked, staring down the slope. There were several boulders and artificial-looking trees below. He has never skied or sledded down a mountain. He wasn’t sure if he would be able to make it on one of those rubber tubes, either. 

Jango merely shrugged next to him. Obi-Wan wasn’t able to look at him due to the setting sun behind him. “There’s available equipment up here.” 

They waited around for up to an hour before retracing their steps to check the unoccupied nests. There still wasn’t anything so, by the time the sun was almost below the horizon, they were back at the start of the major slope to the resort to wait. 

There was a slight breeze, something that wouldn’t be bad on a warmer planet, but with the night temperatures setting in, Obi-Wan was freezing. He stood next to Jango, shivering slightly, while Jango was as stiff as a board. He didn’t want to warm himself using the Force, it was too late for that, now that he was visibly shivering, and getting out their little heater might take too long or draw the wampas to them. Although maybe that was what they should have done. 

He was using the Force to keep an eye on their surroundings, at the very least. He and Jango were both looking around but he was able to feel further out. It was useful, but he appeared to be limiting himself too much because, by the time he felt something approaching, there was already a wampa leaping over a snowdrift and rapidly approaching. He raised his rifle and shot the wampa in the head like all the previous ones. Though, at the same time, the final three wampas appeared. One went straight for Jango and another was coming at Obi-Wan. The third, he couldn’t tell because it was getting blocked by the one coming for him. 

Obi-Wan fired his next shot at the wampa approaching Jango. Another spot-on hit. His rifle beeped in warning at him. Only one more shot before it _had_ to go into a cool-down period. Still, it was faster than what it would be on a warmer planet, but maybe he should talk to Jango and see about getting a liquid heatsink so it could perform more like this on other planets. He shot next at the wampa only a few meters away from him when he felt the presence of a fifth wampa. The third wampa dropped, but the fourth was right behind it and lept at him. 

“Another!” was all Obi-Wan could shout as the wampa tackled him and they went rolling down the slope. His rifle flew out of his hands and he was momentarily thankful these last two wampas weren’t the biggest ones they’ve faced. The fifth wampa was giving chase but Jango was starting to engage the fourth wampa. 

Obi-Wan did most of the tumbling down the slope. The wampa was steady on its feet as it tore after him. He crashed into one of those artificial trees (they’re very sturdy, actually), getting winded. He was thankful his back hit the tree, he could have hit his head instead, so he was able to pull his pistol and falchion off his hips before the wampa could stop him. Though, that wasn’t to say the wampa was going to leave him unharmed. 

If Jango’s WESTARs weren’t very effective against a wampa, then Obi-Wan’s generic blaster pistol would probably only be mild irritation. Yet, he raised his pistol and fired it off as fast as he could. His shots all hit their mark and were hurting the wampa, to some extent, but the wampa still approached him and manhandled him like he was nothing. He was lifted off the ground and felt claws slip between the gaps of his armor. At the same time, with all his might, he shoved his falchion into the wampa’s gut and wrenched his arm around to cause as much damage as possible. 

The wampa dropped him with a roar and a second later he recognized the sound of his rifle firing. The wampa went quiet, limp, and collapsed half on top of Obi-Wan. Obi-Wan raised his head to see Jango standing at the very top of the slope with the prototype rifle in his hands. 

Sudden relief flooded Obi-Wan’s veins. He collapsed back into the snow with a sigh. He heard the sound of Jango’s jetpack then the _Mand’alor_ landed next to him with a muffled thud. The ex-Jedi cracked his eyes open to smirk at the other man as his rifle was placed on his chest. 

“Wasn’t as good of shooting as what you did, but I do believe I saved your life,” Jango huffed. 

“I do believe so,” Obi-Wan replied. With some help, he sat up and moved to the sled Jango brought with him. He sat on it as Jango used his jetpack to boost and steer him down the slope. 

_Jaster’s Legacy_ would stay docked on Hoth until the morning. Star Tours was providing them a final meal of the day and would make them breakfast before they left the next morning. Obi-Wan couldn’t wait to have a full, warm meal in his stomach. 

Supper was brought aboard after he got checked over by the medical droid in the medbay. Jango insisted on it and stood in the room making sure Obi-Wan followed his order before he left to go get the caterers. Nothing serious was wrong with him, though. Just a few bruised ribs, maybe one or two were cracked. He would also have a sore back for a few days and was lucky he had no spinal damage. 

He met Jango in the lounge to eat a meal consisting of a steak, greens, bread rolls, and little dessert cakes. It was a good meal. The meat was tender and juicy, the greens were… greens, the rolls were bread, and the dessert cakes were sweet. It was a meal, Obi-Wan didn’t know why he wanted to analyze the entire thing but there was a calm aura around them that made him feel at peace. He hasn’t been this at peace since he was a Padawan, and Kencha’s Padawan specifically. 

Jango seemed to enjoy the meal, too. His only complaint was that there weren’t enough spices. In his opinion, which Obi-Wan vocally agreed to, the greens shouldn’t be spicier than the meat. And for a resort on a frozen planet, you’d think they’d try to provide you with warm drinks and not freezing cold mixed drinks. 

Jango scoffed loudly when he looked down at his neon pink drink, picking the tiny umbrella from it with his thumb and index finger. 

They were allowed to keep the leftovers, but they had to contact the caterers for them to pick up the dishes. Jango shooed Obi-Wan off to get his time in the refresher done while he put the leftovers away and went to get the caterers. Obi-Wan tried to stay and help but Jango had a finger pointed dangerously close to his tender ribs. 

Obi-Wan followed the order. He stopped by his room for his sleeping clothes, lounge pants and a long-sleeve shirt, then headed to the refresher to get a shower. When he undressed, the bruises on his torso from the wampa’s claws were brighter than when the medical droid looked over him. They were ugly but a little reminder that he was still alive. He has endured worse, some of the scars already littering his backside were proof. 

His shower was a little longer than normal but he never took long showers in the first place. The warm water after being in the cold for the past few nights was irresistible. That, and his hair, long enough to curl under his earlobes and stick to his neck when sweating, was starting to need a bit of maintenance. 

The ship was quiet when he was out of the refresher and roaming the corridors. He was drawn to the bridge, but the purpose wasn’t really known by him. Jango was sitting in the pilot’s seat, stooped forward with his head bowed and resting on his fists. It was an odd position, seeing as the man looked like he was submitting to something. The silence around him, however normally fitting, was cold and off-putting. 

Obi-Wan approached cautiously, being quiet but not silent so Jango wouldn’t be surprised when he sat in the co-pilot’s seat. From his seat, he observed Jango’s slightly pinched-yet-calm face until the man cracked an eye open and glowered at Obi-Wan. 

“Is there something I can help you with?” Jango asked, voice uncharacteristically soft. Obi-Wan felt bad. He was interrupting something. 

“What… what are you doing? If you don’t mind me asking…” 

Jango turned his head away. “ _Ni su’cuyi, gar kyr’adyc, ni partayli, gar darasuum_ … I’m remembering those who I have lost.” Obi-Wan wasn’t familiar with the action but he was able to understand what Jango was saying. Understanding the Mandalorian language was probably one of the only good things that came from protecting Satine. “I have many people to remember from my own failures and enemies.” 

Obi-Wan looked out the windshield. “Not everyone is born capable.” 

Jango’s eyes were on him, critical and calculating. “No, I suppose not. But there were times when I was perfectly capable, and I still let others die. True Mandalorians have been slaughtered all because of me. My _buir_ was killed because we were betrayed. Maybe if I had been more diligent and paid more attention, he wouldn’t have been blindsided. Maybe if I had gotten us off Galidraan quickly, I wouldn’t have gotten Mandalorians slaughtered.” He has turned again, looking the opposite way of Obi-Wan, and trying to calm down. “But now all I can do is remember them, keep their legacies alive.” 

He wanted to comfort Jango but the _Mand’alor_ was now distressed all because he made a comment out of ignorance. It wasn’t a good idea to push Jango more. If he wants to talk, then he will. 

Hesitantly, Obi-Wan reached out to touch Jango’s upper arm. The man flinched but didn’t move away. He turned to view his companion. 

“I appologise for working you up. If you wish to talk, I will listen.” 

A brief look of vulnerability crossed Jango’s face but it was gone in the blink of an eye. He moved a hand to brush over Obi-Wan’s, barely. “I will be fine for tonight. Go get your rest. I will see you in the morning.” 

Obi-Wan nodded. “Goodnight, Jango. Sleep well.” He extricated himself from the cockpit and went to his room. He laid in bed for a few minutes, not lasting long after not sleeping for two cycles. His sleep was dreamless and in the morning, he woke with excitement to eat breakfast with Jango and head back to Outland to see Roz once more. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Translations:  
> Ni su'cuyi, gar kry'adyc, ni partayli, gar darasuum - "I'm alive, but you are dead. I remember you, so you are eternal." Daily remembrance of those who passed on, followed by repetition of loved ones' names.  
> buir - father or mother; parent


	14. Chapter 14

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> bonding  
>  _family_ bonding  
> enjoy ;)  
> (it's 10k!)

Roz was ecstatic to see them return. Since they didn’t return directly after Chandrila, and only sent a message indicating they were picking up another job right after, she was a bit worried. Obi-Wan’s ribs healed with some assistance over their week-long journey back, so when Roz greeted them with hugs, her strong little arms didn’t cause him any discomfort. 

“You boys made it back just in time for the Festival of Life! You missed the morning ceremony but there is still the evening event!” Roz cheered. She was fluttering around them as they were bringing their equipment from _Jaster’s Legacy_ to their respective rooms. 

“I remember the dead every night,” Jango grumbled. He didn’t sound serious but everything about him screamed fatigue. 

“Well you don’t celebrate the living people, _and_ this type of remembering isn’t supposed to be sad like you make it out to be.” 

Obi-Wan detected some annoyance from Jango but they continued to their rooms, Roz waiting out in the hall and speaking to both of them since she forced the doors to stay open. “You don’t even have to participate, but at least come to the ceremony tonight. Let Dral see how we celebrate here and show him around tomorrow if you want!” 

Obi-Wan simply put his things on his bed and was back out in the hall with Roz. Jango was causing something to clatter around in his room but he eventually came out to fix Roz with sharp eyes. 

“Who says he will have time to enjoy the celebration? I have things to be teaching him. He has to leave the nest sometime.” 

Roz guffawed. She wavered in the air, and when she was done, she wiped at her eyes like she was crying. Seriously, she said, “No, that’s not happening. Maybe he’ll be leaving _your_ nest, but he’s family, he’s not disappearing once you’ve taught him everything. You both get the week off. If Dral wants to check out the festivities, then he can. If he doesn’t, then maybe you two can find something nice to do together.” 

Obi-Wan heard a scoff from the other side of Roz but no opposing words were said. 

They went to the announcer’s box of the main pit fighting arena to watch things get set up. Obi-Wan and Jango shared what happened on their two hunts, not leaving much out since they were standing in front of Roz, and clearly nothing bad enough happened to kill either of them. She wasn’t impressed to hear about their little act to get off Chandrila and she wasn’t happy at all to hear that they hunted wampas on Hoth. Otherwise, minor injuries aside, their retelling of the bounties went smoothly. 

“Oh, boy.” Roz leaned close to Obi-Wan like she was going to tell him a secret but spoke in her normal volume, “Jango has a habit of getting into bad situations.” 

That wouldn’t be the first time she said something like that, but Obi-Wan wasn’t going to comment on it. 

“So does Mr. Perfect right next to you, Roz.” Jango was standing right at the window, looking down into the arena with his arms crossed. He was out of his armor, having left it in his room. The windows of the announcer’s box were tinted, so maybe Jango wasn’t worried about getting attacked. “Remember when I explained that he was tossed down the mountain when we were on Hoth? Or when he was almost killed on Coruscant because he insisted on getting our target alone without help? We also didn’t tell you this, but when we were on Coruscant for that job, he was also pulled aside to get his whatcha-call-it tested by a Jedi.” 

Roz sobered up, sighing and turning away to look through a pamphlet detailing the festivities. 

Great. Jango was deciding to be prickly, despite being friendly earlier, and now Roz was going to be grumpy for a bit. 

Obi-Wan decided to approach the opposite end of the window Jango was looking out to get a view for himself. The sand in the rink was all combed through, a delicate pattern looking like the cycle of life drawn in. Colorful streamers decorated the rafters above and the normally-gritty yellow lights were clean and shining several colors. It was odd since it was an arena that creatures tended to be killed in, but in the end, it was also a message. 

As a Padawan, Obi-Wan didn’t exactly participate in any of the fete weeks. Everyone participated in the New Year’s Fete, but the Jedi had toned-down celebrations. Qui-Gon always seemed miserable during New Year’s Fete and Obi-Wan was only with Kencha for one celebration of it and he was oddly subdued. Seeing Roz decorate her main pit fighting arena was different for him. He hasn’t seen the rest of the station, so he wondered what all that would look like. 

Jango’s eyes have been on him for the past few minutes, searing holes in several different places on Obi-Wan’s body. Obi-Wan looked at him, grateful to see the brown eyes meet his immediately. His eyes seemed softer than earlier, so maybe his attitude was an act for Roz. But who knew with Fett? Maybe not even he knew what he was doing and why half the time. 

“Can I help you?” 

A smirk tugged on the corners of Jango’s lips. “I’ll take you around the station tomorrow, if that’s what you want.” 

“I can explore by myself if showing me around is a bother,” Obi-Wan offered. As nice as it sounded—getting shown around the station by Jango to hear his thoughts—it wasn’t Obi-Wan’s goal to be a nuisance. 

“No, no… Roz would have my hide if I let you wander aimlessly.” Jango sighed. “We start in the morning, get some of that trashy festival food for lunch, then return if we are done.” 

“Wow, what a gentleman.” 

“Yeah, my _buir_ raised a good one.” 

Their sarcastic exchange was friendly and they both knew it. Jango squinted at Obi-Wan before he looked back out the window sullenly. 

Strange, but Obi-Wan was going to leave him alone. They both stood at the window to watch things get set up until Roz was instructing them to pull up chairs and sit down. She wouldn’t be going down to announce. She wanted to sit with her family (between them, specifically), according to her, but according to Jango, she was safest in the booth. 

“What can I say?” she joked, “I just want to spend time with my family! You two were gone for so long, I only had Terry to talk to and he’s not very good at holding a conversation. So both of you keep your mouths shut. _Aliit ori’shya tal’din_. Let me enjoy this.” 

“Family is more than blood…” Obi-Wan translated quietly. Strange, he didn’t think Roz knew any _Mando’a_. He heard that saying several times on Mandalore, not usually with the best connotation. 

His words didn’t go unnoticed. Jango and Roz were staring at him, Jango, particularly, looking aghast. 

“You know _Mando’a_?” His voice was soft but he was demanding an answer, known by seeing the passion in his eyes. 

“Uh… a little bit. I spent some time on Mandalore to protect a target so I picked up some things.” 

“Say something else. Say ‘Train your sons to be strong but your daughters to be stronger’.” 

There was no denying the excitement in Jango’s eyes, so Obi-Wan spoke, “ _Ke barjurir gar'ade, jagyc'ade kot'la a dalyc'ade kotla'shya_.” 

Jango frowned, his excitement starting to fade. “You clearly learned from the New Mandalorians. Only they speak like they’re afraid of their own language.” 

Obi-Wan didn’t know why but he felt disappointed by Jango’s reaction to him knowing _Mando’a_. He wasn’t expecting fireworks but seeing Jango’s initial excitement got him thrilled but after his poor pronunciation, all the excitement was gone. There was still something hopeful in his eyes but it wasn’t the same as before. 

“Sorry to disappoint,” Obi-Wan murmured. 

“Ignore him, dear,” Roz started in her gravelly voice, “he _is_ happy, he just doesn’t know how to express himself sometimes.” 

Jango faced forward, leaning his temple on his fist resting on the arm of the chair, and sighed loudly. 

They turned their attention to the arena below as the ceremony started. The announcer introduced it and started the music. The ceremony was flashy, the lights on the audience were off and colorful lights highlighted the activity below. Delicate yet complicated music boomed over the speakers. Two skeletal creatures chased each other around until they collapsed on the ground, then two younger creatures, not yet skeletons, began the cycle again. The movements repeated until the music faded out and the audience was cheering. 

The message was straightforward, if it could even be considered a message. It was a retelling of life. The cycle never ends. The creatures sometimes killed each other, sometimes they appeared to be in love. No matter what, they both ended up dead and new creatures took their place. And to tie it all together, they were dying in the main arena creatures were forced to fight in for sport. 

Obi-Wan looked over at his companions. Roz looked gleeful as she watched the show wrap up and Jango… well, he was staring right back at Obi-Wan from the corner of his eye, looking a mixture of bored and tired. He looked like he could have or _did_ nap through the ceremony. 

Afterward, the three of them wandered around the district and stopped at a noodle stand. Obi-Wan and Roz got some type of plain noodles with chunks of bird meat in it and Jango got a bowl of their supposed hottest noodles. The plain noodles were good, according to Roz. Obi-Wan thought they were fine. They were food; they filled his stomach, would provide energy for him, and didn’t make him sick, so he had no complaints. Jango, however, scoffed after his first bite and said his bowl would be an introductory spice to someone who couldn’t handle their spices. 

Roz cracked a joke about Mandalorians having mouths comparable to ovens. Neither man laughed. Jango looked grumpy but Obi-Wan smiled politely. 

“You boys are no fun…” she muttered and that’s when Jango decided to laugh. 

They headed back to their private living area, listening to Roz talk about the upcoming days. The entire station would be celebrating basically every night. Food and drink vendors would be all over and shops would have discounts, activities would be available in the districts or select parks, and they weren’t allowed to work whatsoever. They were allowed to do some very light training during the week, but otherwise, Roz wanted them to enjoy the festivities and explore all else that she didn’t mention. 

Obi-Wan looked to Jango after she was done explaining things. The man didn’t object. Still, he looked tired, maybe a tad bit annoyed, but he wasn’t complaining. He looked and, in the Force, felt at peace. Mandalorians were supposed to love spending time with their family. If he was like the average Mandalorian and thought of Roz and Obi-Wan both as family, then it would make sense for him to look like he was asleep on his feet. 

They parted ways in the hall for their bedrooms. When inside his room, Obi-Wan made quick work of throwing his clothes in the laundry chute and hid his ‘sabers and vest in his dresser then headed to his ‘fresher to clean up before bed. He took a quick shower, brushed his teeth, then returned to his curtained-off bedroom to do a light meditation. His head was less jumbled with thoughts about having a week to celebrate a week he never previously celebrated and waves of emotions. All of it was put aside, whether it was a Jedi thing to do or not. He just wanted sleep. 

In the morning, after getting dressed in his boots, a long-sleeve, and utility pants, leaving his vest locked away in his dresser, he headed out to their shared living space to find Jango making breakfast. The man didn’t look at him but he murmured a greeting. 

Obi-Wan approached the counter where a drink maker sat. A dark liquid was in the carafe. “What’s this?” 

Jango glanced over his shoulder. “Drip coffee. Plain as plain can get so you can customize it to your liking.” 

Obi-Wan was accustomed to tea but he ended up searching through the cupboards to find a mug and poured himself a cup. He added some milk to it after he took a sip and found it a bit too bland for his taste. He sat at the table and watched Jango continue to cook. 

“So, what are the plans for today?” 

Jango reached into one of the cupboards to pull out plates. He filled two with mini-omelets and an oat-gruel mixed with fruits and brought them to the table, putting one in front of Obi-Wan. Before he sat down, he retrieved silverware and his own cup of coffee. 

“Eat then go wander around. We’ll find lunch, then keep wandering around if you’re still not satisfied,” Jango murmured. He tipped his head and fixed Obi-Wan with an inquiring gaze. “That sound good?” 

“Why does it matter if _I_ think it sounds good?” He cut a piece of omelet off and stuck it in his mouth. Delicious, as usual. 

“Because, on behalf of Roz, I’m showing you around and staying with you so you don’t get yourself hurt doing something stupid or get kidnapped.” 

“Like anyone would want to kidnap me.” 

Jango shrugged. “The Outer Rim doesn’t follow the same rules as the Core, if you need reminding…” 

Obi-Wan scoffed, shaking his head with an amused huff. 

They finished eating and cleaned up their dishes. Roz came out to eat as they were getting ready to leave. She was still bleary with sleep but she happily waved them goodbye and told them to stay safe. She also told Jango that anything either of them bought today would be covered by her. When they were in the private corridors to enter the rest of the station, Jango said he was paying with his own credits. 

The rest of Outland Station was decorated much differently than the last time Obi-Wan walked through. Colorful streamers adorned the walls and hung on the lower ceilings. Confetti and other small, loose materials littered the floor. Shops advertised discounts, there were food stands set up where there weren’t any before, and tables set up for activities in open areas. It was quite a bit to take in. 

Jango didn’t show a lot of interest in much but he did what he said he would. He walked with Obi-Wan the entire time, pointing out different points of interest and approaching stands that would be of some interest to them. Though, Obi-Wan wasn’t sure if he would consider necklaces made of authentic vornskr teeth something either of them would be interested in. Jango even bought one, something Obi-Wan wasn’t expecting, then turned around and gave it to Obi-Wan. The ex-Jedi put it on awkwardly and said thanks. Jango grinned back. He _had_ to know Obi-Wan couldn’t reject a gift when on the spot. Though he wouldn’t have a clue how grotesque it was when one knew the diet of vornskr. 

They were walking again, working their way past the stands and around others gathered and milling about. Jango wasn’t very clear where they were going but perhaps he didn’t have a destination in mind. Just guiding Obi-Wan through some of the sights may have been what he had in mind. 

“Hey, you two boys!” someone shouted behind them. 

Obi-Wan couldn’t help but feel like they were the ones being called out, so he stopped and turned to look for the source of the voice. Jango took another few steps before he stopped also but turned to look at Obi-Wan instead of looking around too. 

There was an older looking human woman behind a stand selling paints and offering face paints. Jango came back to his side and was also looking at the stand. Jango looked indifferent but Obi-Wan could feel the interest coming off him in waves in the Force. 

They approached the stand, coming closer. The face paints ranged from bright to dull colors and everything in between. There were pictures of what you could get painted on your face and examples of how to do it yourself. A younger human—also presumably a woman—was behind the stand, looking between her companion and the two men. 

“You two…” the older woman murmured. Her eyes were two different colors, one a bit milky looking, like she was blind in that eye or had an artificial eye. “You boys have some power in you both.” She reached out toward Obi-Wan, not touching him but causing him to flinch slightly and Jango to change his stance like he was going to attack. “You… the spirits sing about you.” 

Neither of them was wearing anything special. Obi-Wan was still in his regular attire, and Jango was in a pair of straight-legged lounge pants that were tight down at the ankle, a thin long-sleeve shirt that hugged his frame, and his own pair of boots. Neither of them looked powerful unless you thought about muscle mass, then Obi-Wan would probably be considered a twig and not powerful whatsoever. 

“I think you might be wrong there, lady…” Jango muttered. 

“Well, she _could_ be right,” the younger woman spoke up from behind the counter. She smiled at them pleasantly. “She’s Force-sensitive, you see. Not enough to attract the attention of the Jedi but enough to use her gift.” She stood and held out her hand to shake. Obi-Wan made sure to pull his presence in the Force inward and masked it. He shook the girl’s hand. “Call me Kit. And that’s my grandmother, Savatia.” 

“A Force user… great…” Jango muttered. 

Both women ignored his comment. Kit smiled politely. “Would you like your faces painted?” 

“It would be on the house, my pleasure,” Savatia grumbled. “You need to get into the Festival of Life spirit.” 

“I think that would be a good idea!” Obi-Wan said before Jango could answer for them. Though, in the Force, Jango didn’t _feel_ like he didn’t want to get their faces painted. In fact, Jango felt surprisingly excited and more interested than before. 

Savatia linked her arm with Obi-Wan’s and brought him to one side of the stand while Kit directed Jango to the other side without touching him. 

“We get to choose the painting since it’s free. You will enjoy them,” Savatia said as she got her paints around. “Close your eyes and let me work.” 

Obi-Wan obeyed. He flinched at first when the brush first started spreading cold paint across his face. He felt Savita lightly poking at his shields, whether she meant to or not. He didn’t appreciate it, even sneakily reaching out to Jango to boost his mental shields, before completely trying to hide his presence in the Force. 

“But you are powerful, no?” Savatia asked quietly. 

Obi-Wan sighed. He spoke with an even quieter voice, lowly, “I might be, but I try to leave all that behind me. I’d appreciate it if you dropped the topic and I would be _very_ grateful if you don’t mention anything about it until I leave.” 

The woman chuckled. “I understand, young one. Sometimes we are killed for being born as we are. Though, you feel like you have been trained. You have been treated better than some of us.” 

He cleared his throat awkwardly. “Did you receive training? Does your granddaughter also possess the same gift?” 

“Kit, unfortunately, does not seem to be gifted with the Force. However, she is gifted with art, and I have given her some extra training so she knows how to protect her mind. I, on the other hand, learned from a witch where I grew up. He taught me how to protect myself and my mind. It is better than what others could receive from where I lived.” 

“Yes, it is. We can be harmful to ourselves and our loved ones if we aren’t trained. And if we can’t protect ourselves, then slavers would love to get their hands on a Force user to turn into a monster.” Obi-Wan felt briefly cold. He did his best to shake the feeling off. “So, how did you get here?”

Savatia went on to explain that she was the best artist in her village and got noticed by a wealthy traveler, who took her to a bigger planet to expose her work. She eventually gathered enough money to bring her family to her new planet, where she eventually began to teach her granddaughter art, too. Eventually, they heard of Outland Station and have been coming every year to do face paintings. A charming story, one she told at a louder volume so Jango could listen if he wanted to pay attention. 

It took about half an hour for the women to be done painting. A clear liquid was applied to their faces to protect their paint from flaking. When that was dried, they were both allowed to open their eyes. 

A mirror was held right in front of Obi-Wan’s face. He blinked a few times before he understood what he was looking at. There was a bird on fire, painted on his forehead and arching over his right eye like his eye was the sun and long tail feathers curled under his left eye, all in a show of magnificence. It made the blue in his eyes stand out, and the colors of the bird were brighter than his hair by a few shades. 

“A phoenix. How beautiful, ‘ma,” Kit said from the side. 

Obi-Wan looked over at Jango. Jango had tan scales painted on his cheekbones and above his eyebrows. A winged serpent, the same color of the scales, was on half of his forehead, its tail reaching down and following his jawline. There was some faint paint (or makeup), a bit lighter than his skin around his eyes, making the copper in his eyes stand out. 

Obi-Wan grinned, feeling a bit too excited and he felt his cheeks heat up for that. He felt _good_ , not in a way he could say he ever felt being a Jedi. Now was one of the first times he felt truly free. Sure, an unfamiliar Force user was standing to the side, but she seemed to have discretion and they may never see each other again after the festivities. He could see some of his giddiness reflected in Jango’s eyes, but Jango was also doing his best to suppress his emotions. Suppressing his emotions to make sure they’re both safe, he would probably say, because letting their guards down in public is dangerous. He was a total softy, whether he would admit it or not. Obi-Wan believed he could put that together without the aid of the Force. 

So here they both were. Obi-Wan with a phoenix on his face, a bird representing renewal and the fire it is born in, and Jango with a krayt dragon on his face, a creature known for its strength and ferocity. Obi-Wan had gotten a new start and was as fiery as he was in his Padawan years and Jango was a presence comparable to a krayt dragon not far away. Not a bad combination, in Obi-Wan’s opinion. 

They left the two women on friendly terms. They all waved and said nice things before parting. Jango continued to guide Obi-Wan through the station. Eventually, they reached one of the parks on Outland. Obi-Wan only visited one once and never did again after relating it to the Temple meditation gardens and became homesick. The one they were visiting, for clarification, wasn’t that same one. 

This park was beautiful, as was the one he visited on his own. It wasn’t as grandiose as the meditation gardens on Coruscant but it possessed a friendlier atmosphere to groups of people. The Temple meditation gardens are possible to get lost in, all of the parks on Outland are not. The park they were at had a decent amount of foliage, cleaned off paths, and benches. In the center of it was a large, drooping willow on a small island surrounded by a pond filled with fish ranging all over the color scale. On opposite sides of the pond, however, were calm, narrow swaying bridges that led out to the island (though, it was worth noting that they were blocked off with chains and notices saying authorized personnel were only allowed on the island. If anyone not allowed on the island was over there, charges would be pressed). 

Obi-Wan’s chest felt tight as they stepped over the threshold between the park and the station corridor. The urge to turn around was immense but he kept walking. The good thing about their current park was that it seemed relatively abandoned. 

“Are you all right?” Jango ventured suddenly. 

Obi-Wan jumped. He didn’t realize he was tensed up like he was anticipating an attack. He forced himself to loosen up. “Yes, sorry. I was thinking.” 

“Well, don’t think… just enjoy the park,” Jango said, trying to be helpful but sounding awkward in the process. 

Obi-Wan let out a shaky laugh. “Were it so easy…” 

“Care to elaborate?” 

It was tempting, but at the same time not. He didn’t want to explain something to Jango that could trace him back to being a Jedi nor did he want to burden Jango with his internal degrading thoughts. 

“I’ve seen only one other park on Outland Station and it gave me a case of homesickness. Back on Zeffo, we had gardens a little more extravagant than this, but a garden is a garden. I just… wasn’t ready for it, I suppose.” Obi-Wan shrugged. 

They were coming to a bench. Jango motioned to it with a raised eyebrow, causing the dragon on his temple to shift. Obi-Wan smirked as he sat down on the bench and the _Mand’alor_ followed suit, putting the width of another person between them. 

Jango was quiet. His face was blank as he stared ahead at the pond. He seemed serene, even as it was semi-clear he was thinking. Obi-Wan probed at Jango’s mind, deciding not to undo the shield he put in place, but slipped through his own work. 

Obi-Wan was against using mind tricks and searching people’s minds without their consent. As a Jedi. Thinking about it, he still had his reservations, but if the person was unaware, then did it hurt? The Jedi in him said yes, the mercenary-in-training said no. With both of them put together, Obi-Wan found himself leaning more toward what his mercenary self thought. And that meant he found himself starting to dig. 

Jango’s mind, though the man was untrained with the Force, was strong and a complicated web of fortifications. Obi-Wan, admittingly, didn’t have a hard time getting where he wanted to, but Jango had something good naturally built. He didn’t have to dive too far and made sure he didn’t look at something he shouldn’t see, to find where Jango’s emotion’s lied. 

On top were the emotions he was currently showing; serenity, nothingness. Just under that were caution and a desire to protect—bordering on possessiveness. Not surprising? considering Jango was proud (deep down) to be Mandalorian. Obi-Wan had to go through a tangle of something that felt like lies, something that had to come from past experiences like the Battle of Galidraan, and then he came across… affection. It was foreign and it felt weird because it was Jango’s and it was directed toward someone. There was an implied direction of that someone, but it set off alarm bells in Obi-Wan’s head when he felt the affection’s tendrils reaching out. 

Obi-Wan backed out of Jango’s head as fast as he could when he felt that final emotion almost trying to stick to him like glue. 

“I never bothered to ask how well you were adjusting to this new way of life,” Jango said casually. He stared at the pond for another second before leaning back against the bench and looking at Obi-Wan. 

“Well, you didn’t really make it easy to settle in when I first arrived,” Obi-Wan huffed. 

Jango shrugged, smirking. “You had to be tested. I had to make sure Roz didn’t invite a moron into our midst. You’re not half bad, if that makes you feel good.” 

He was teasing but being sincere. Several times in the past, he has acknowledged Obi-Wan’s skills. Obi-Wan himself knew he was skillful, even with the ones Jango doesn’t know about. 

“Thanks…” Obi-Wan retorted playfully. 

“What are your plans, by the way? What do you intend to do once I’ve deemed your training complete?” Jango asked. He was leaning forward, resting his elbows on his knees now, but still keeping Obi-Wan in his vision. 

It was Obi-Wan’s turn to shrug. “I can’t say I’ve thought much about it.” He has, but he also knew more opportunities could present themselves before his training was complete. 

“You probably should. I don’t know how much more I have to teach you.” Jango tapped his foot on the ground. He sniffed and looked away. “Roz has said you’re welcome to stay around and has implied that she wants you to.” 

“Yes… I believe she mentioned that. When we met, it was brought up that she would extend her services to me once you were done training me.” 

“I haven’t decided yet, but I don’t believe you’d overstay your welcome when your training is finished. If anything, your presence on jobs has been useful. At the moment, the way I see it, I’d be interested in doing more jobs with you. And if you want to only do jobs with me sometimes and use Roz’s services more, that’s fine. My feelings won’t be hurt.” 

“You’re saying you’d like me to keep doing jobs with you?” 

Jango shrugged. He was still looking away. “Your words, not mine.” 

Obi-Wan felt his cheeks heat up so he looked in the opposite direction of Jango. He felt honored the _Mand’alor_ liked working with him. Jango himself was a very capable warrior and bounty hunter, it was a shock he admitted to wanting to work more with Obi-Wan. But Obi-Wan could overstay his welcome, and that could turn out dangerous. He can’t hide his past of being a Jedi forever. His hope was to get trained so he could defend himself without the assistance of others, then move on with his life. Maybe hone his Force abilities and visit old Jedi tombs. Staying to work with Jango could be dangerous the longer he kept his secret up. But if he revealed his past to Jango sooner rather than later… well, it would be less dangerous but still might not be the safest idea he has ever had. 

Though, letting Qui-Gon choose where to send him probably wasn’t the best idea, either. But what’s done is done and all Obi-Wan can do is go with the flow. Besides, it’s not like he was sent somewhere horrible. 

“We’ll have to see how the future pans out. It has been an experience to hunt with you, I don’t want to altogether stop,” Obi-Wan admitted, and he thought he detected some delight radiating from Jango in the Force. 

“Sounds good.” 

They sat on the bench for a little while longer. Obi-Wan let himself relax as the scents of pollen and vegetation flood his nostrils and the artificial sunlight beat down on his head, shoulders, and lap. He didn’t doze but he found himself swaying in place several times as his mind tried to drift and each time Jango put a hand on his arm because he thought Obi-Wan was falling asleep. It was funny, cracking open an eye to look at the man’s expression that was a mix of confusion and worry. 

Obi-Wan brushed him off and got up to walk around the pond. Jango hesitated, not knowing if he should stay on the bench or walk with Obi-Wan until the ex-Jedi motioned for the other man to follow. 

Some of the fish looked familiar. Those were some of the ones also found in the Temple meditation gardens. The fish that Obi-Wan didn’t recognize weren’t as colorful but just as beautiful in their own way. They swam with a type of grace the colorful fish didn’t. They were the ones that blended in and they knew it. If they were in the wild, the colorful fish would be gone first. Yes, Obi-Wan thought as he inhaled deeply, gaudy things didn’t always lead to survival. 

They walked a few laps around the pond without saying anything. They were silent the entire time but it was a companionable silence that Obi-Wan had no problem relating to Jango. It was Obi-Wan who made the motion of taking their walk somewhere else, then it was Jango who took the lead and took a look at the time. That led them to start to meander about to find where to eat their second meal of the day. 

Jango ended up directing them to a random food stand selling wraps. He didn’t seem thrilled about it until Obi-Wan expressed some excitement for trying something new. _Then_ the _Mand’alor_ stopped making faces and looked at the menu like he was no longer scorning all the options. 

When they were ordering, they both chose ronto wraps. Jango got the spicy option and Obi-Wan got a mild mix of the ronto meat and greens. It wasn’t the most glorious of foods but Obi-Wan didn’t have much of a reason to complain about it. As always, food is food. He was sure he never had ronto before but it wasn’t anything spectacular he was missing out on but didn’t hate it. 

They sat across each other at a little table and chairs not far from where a lot of the food stands were set up. A little food court, one might say. Many others were eating at other tables the same size or larger because they had larger parties. A few others also seemed to have decorated themselves in spirit of the Festival of Life. And some of those others were a bit more… _out there_ in how they decorated themselves. 

Jango cleared his throat, drawing Obi-Wan’s attention to him. 

“Your scar,” he pointed to his own right eye, “how’d you get it?” 

Obi-Wan resisted the urge to touch the scar in reference. “I got into a scuffle with a user of one of those energy swords that aren’t quite lightsabers. Lucky I didn’t lose my eye.” He should have lost it. Not because he deserved it but because no one survives an encounter like that without losing something. Qui-Gon was supposed to die, so instead, he was probably supposed to lose his left eye, but that didn’t work either. That little graze from a lightsaber should have cut into his skull and taken his eye. 

“Can’t say I’ve seen a sword like that.” 

Obi-Wan thought of the bright red blades. A simple double-bladed staff was able to keep him and Qui-Gon at bay. Even with how hard he fought, there had still been a chance the Sith could have struck Qui-Gon down since they were separated rather than be entertained by a fiery Padawan. 

“You wouldn’t want to,” Obi-Wan muttered tersely. Though, Jango most definitely has. 

They finished eating not long after. Obi-Wan witnessed a little scuffle over Jango’s shoulder meanwhile and saw, for the first time, Outland’s security forces—made of droids and other species—end it swiftly. Jango also turned to glance at it but didn’t seem entertained, probably having seen it several times from being on Outland Station longer than Obi-Wan has. 

They took another walk around Outland, but mostly so they could get to the quieter corridors that would take them back to their living space. However, they walked by more stands and Obi-Wan wondered how they celebrated for an entire week. But then he remembered Outland was known for its pit fighting so he assumed there would be pit fighting every night. 

When they were back in their private living space, he and Jango hovered by the couch awkwardly. 

“Meet me in the kitchen in two hours,” Jango instructed. 

“For?” 

Jango smirked and gave a wink to Obi-Wan. “Just do it, would you?” 

Obi-Wan frowned as he turned to head to his room. He threw a strange look over his shoulder as he went. 

In his room, he locked his door before he went to his bedroom and pulled out his lightsabers for cleaning. He took his apart first, using the Force to delicately remove and set aside all the pieces. Then he took the rag to the parts of the hilt. It didn’t take long but he did take his time, also making sure to enter a quick meditation to check over his kyber crystal. It was fairly steady, but he felt it metaphorically recoil from him. He withdrew and had to remove himself from meditation to put his weapon back together as the feeling of dejection settled in his chest. 

Next was Kencha’s lightsaber. It had a thin-necked emitter and the hilt itself was smooth in design, perfectly balanced. Kencha even was able to do quirky tricks with it without the use of the Force. Obi-Wan took it apart like it was his own, cleaning it as he did with his, and began to meditate with it. 

The yellow crystal felt like its original owner. Soft, warm, and comforting. It didn’t turn Obi-Wan away as his own crystal did, but it didn’t offer anything to comfort him. In a way, he saw that as good. He didn’t need Kencha’s crystal trying to heal or infect itself by attempting to bond with him. As long as the crystal is stable, and it was, he could put the lightsaber back together, so he did. 

There was still plenty of time left so Obi-Wan left his bedroom and activated the screen on the wall to turn on a random channel. He ended up watching some sort of drama with bad acting and took a nap through most of it. 

A few hours later, Obi-Wan found Jango in the kitchen focusing a datapad. That was something different, since Jango never made food according to a recipe from something other than a product’s packaging, but he was wearing an apron on top of that. He even threw a matching apron to Obi-Wan when he was close enough. 

“What are your plans?” the ex-Jedi asked as he put on the apron. 

“We are making final meal. _Mando_ foods. You offered to help once, and you’ve been around Mandalorian culture before, so here you can prove your hospitality skills.” 

Obi-Wan looked down at the datapad. The recipe pulled up was for _tiingilar_ , and two other recipes jotted down on the side were _haarshun_ bread and _uj’alayi_. 

“ _Tiingilar_? Again? I thought you were going to introduce me to something new?” 

“I am, that’s what the bread and dessert are for, and this _tiingilar_ is the real deal. You’ll wish that other stuff Roz brought back was what it actually tastes like.” 

Final meal wouldn’t be until several standard hours but seeing as they had three different items to make, starting on them now was the best option. Jango started getting ingredients out for making the _haarshun_ bread. 

“What’s your experience with cooking?” he asked casually. 

“I often made the meals for my teacher and I once I was able to cook. Nothing professional, just mostly whatever I could scrounge up, but they were decent.” 

Jango hummed in acknowledgment. He dug a bowl out and started pouring barely-measured flour, yeast, and water in it. Though according to the recipe, it was all that was needed and it now needed to be stirred. They got out a mixer and mixed the dough until Jango deemed it time to knead. 

“We’re not letting it rise.” Jango split the dough in half between them and started to expertly flatten his. “Make it as thin as possible. When light can shine through it, roll it up like a parchment, then we will put it in to cook.” 

Obi-Wan started off watching Jango for guidance and the man moved too fast to follow along perfectly. Funny how he was so precise when he only made packaged items for the three of them in the past. But since he was _Mand’alor_ it made sense that he could cook. If he couldn’t provide for his family, then he would be considered a horrible Mandalorian altogether. 

His dough was split in half again, and he ended up with two perfect rolls of parchment bread. He set them aside and turned to Obi-Wan, grinning because he was well-aware the other man didn’t have a clue on what to do. 

“I split mine into two different rolls for show. You might as well split yours into four for the practice and so you don’t ruin entire rolls with inexperience.” He smiled apologetically after his words to show he wasn’t intending to be harsh. 

Obi-Wan did just that. He split the dough into four equal piles and started thinning the first. Jango gave some input, like trying to make it as equal as possible and holding it up to the lights to see how it looks before rolling it up. His first roll was still too thick so Jango took to grabbing Obi-Wan’s hands to force him to put the correct pressure on the dough. Obi-Wan was ready to object, he needed to do it on his own, but he had three other piles of dough to work on himself. Jango was simply doing his job and teaching… 

The dough was sturdy enough that when Obi-Wan held up his flattened dough up to the light, the light shone through it. Jango nodded his head and gave him very clear instructions for rolling it up. When his first loaf was done, it was put on the pan with the others and Jango let Obi-Wan make the others on his own with very little additional commentary. 

With the _haarshun_ bread cooking, Jango retrieved the meats, vegetables, and singular type of fruit for _tiingilar_. He set them aside to pull out the spices he accumulated on Coruscant and gave Obi-Wan the task of organizing them. Organizing the spices didn’t take long so as soon as Obi-Wan was finished, a knife and cutting board containing the vegetables and fruit were pushed in front of him. 

It didn’t take Jango long to cut the meat, and Obi-Wan was close to getting done with his items, so he picked out the spices he wanted and showed Obi-Wan how to spice the meat. It was simple and something Obi-Wan has done himself, but Jango was going through all the motions. Roll the pieces of meat in the spices then put them in the skillet on the warming stove. They’ll add even more spices and the vegetables later. Also, don’t forget to occasionally spray the meat with the questionable liquid sitting next to the stove, according to Jango. 

With the stove cooking both major portions, it was time for the _uj’alayi_. Jango approached making the final dish differently than the other two. He got all the ingredients out; the nuts, dried fruits, spices, syrup, and cake powder. He gave Obi-Wan directions and they split up the duties for adding the ingredients to the new mixing bowl. When it was mixed, Jango gave Obi-Wan the cake pan for it and turned to add the vegetables to the pan on the stove and covered it with the matching lid. 

“You’ll love _uj’alayi_ ,” Jango murmured as he watched Obi-Wan pour the batter into the pan. He took the filled cookware and put it in the stove, removing the bread and resetting the timer. 

“Not the _tiingilar_ or bread?” Obi-Wan watched as Jango increased the heat of the stovetop. 

“Well, you’ll have to dip the bread in the _tiingilar_ or a drink if you want to actually eat it, and the _tiingilar_ is spicier than the stuff Roz brought back that one time.” Jango started grabbing the final spices to add. “But you’ll like it.” 

Roz arrived not long later with Terry following her like the good droid it was designed to be. She looked surprised to see both of them making food and happy at the same time. “What are we having?” 

“ _Tiingilar_ , _haarshun_ bread, and _uj’alayi_ ,” Jango answered without turning to address her. 

Obi-Wan watched Roz’s face morph to show that she was unimpressed as she looked between the two of them then shook her head. “I will _not_ be eating your _tiingilar_. I’ll eat your bread and cake, but you _will not_ get me to eat your sadistic version of that stew. I love and respect your culture, dear, but that stew is a step a bit too far.” She turned to Obi-Wan as Jango grinned like a trickster. “I am sorry for what your tastebuds are about to experience.” 

Obi-Wan didn’t quite know how to respond. 

They set the table. Jango took the _tiingilar_ off the stove and set it on a trivet next to the bread. The _uj’alayi_ would remain in the oven for most of the duration of final meal, most likely finishing around the time they would be done with the main course. Though, Roz hinted at the possibility of eating it later because they wouldn’t have enough room in their stomachs to eat a full piece each. 

With aprons off, Roz and Obi-Wan sat down while Jango was bringing drinks to the table. And he brought three glasses of milk with him. 

“You’ll need this.” He sat in his own seat, wearing his excitement on his face. “And don’t forget to drip your bread in the _tiingilar_ or milk or else it’s inedible.” 

The scent of _tiingilar_ had been slowly filling up the room as it cooked but now Obi-Wan was very aware of what it smelled like, if you could count the smell of pure spices as an actual scent. He could feel his nose beginning to burn and eyes starting to water in response. He looked at Jango, trying to portray his discomfort but Jango was watching him with a smile, holding his utensil and clearly waiting for Obi-Wan to take the first bite. Roz, too, was waiting to start dipping a piece of her bread into her milk to watch. 

“You’re aiming to kill me, Fett,” Obi-Wan huffed. He picked up his spoon, filled it with the stew, and stuck it in his mouth. 

His mouth was burning even before the food touched his tongue. What was wrong with Mandalorians and their spices? Lightly spiced foods were good, but this? It was almost inedible! 

He almost spat the stew back out but reeled himself in and swallowed. Jango guffawed and started to dig into his own meal, Roz looked half worried and half entertained. 

“Cool down with the milk, _or’dinii_ , that’s what it is for.” Jango was still recovering from laughing at Obi-Wan but he wasn’t having issues eating while doing so. “Dip the bread in.” 

Obi-Wan decided to voice his thoughts after he took another bite followed by a bite of milk-soaked bread. “This is good to you?” He could see some sweat starting to form on Jango’s forehead to match his own that was starting. 

Jango shrugged. “Yeah.” 

Roz got up to make her food since the big reveal was over. She offered to make Obi-Wan something so he didn’t ruin his mouth but he denied and Jango piped up, saying the other man would have already experienced _heturam_ so it was pointless to make something else when he would be able to finish his bowl of stew. 

And Jango was right. While Obi-Wan couldn’t taste much, of what the stew he _could_ taste, it was good. Where the meat and vegetables came in, it was very nutritional. Where the spices came in, it was for personal pleasure. His mouth was practically on fire because of it and only so much _haarshun_ bread could soothe his mouth while he still ate. He decided to save his bread for last and continued eating the stew, mouth in pain, and body uncomfortably sweating. 

When they were done eating, Jango disappeared to his room for something while Obi-Wan took the cake from the oven and Roz put the dirty dishes in the sink. As Obi-Wan was cutting the _uj’alayi_ Jango came back out and set several cases of glass bottles down on the low table in front of the couch. 

“Oh, yeah!” Roz exclaimed. “It’s movie night! Dral, will you be joining us? It’s practically tradition! Many of the channels will be playing movies to celebrate the Festival of Life or we can choose movies based on what we own or have access to.” 

Obi-Wan didn’t need to look at Jango to know the man was staring at him, also awaiting an answer. 

“Sure…” 

Jango snorted. “Pressuring him into isn’t going to make the atmosphere very friendly, Roz.” 

“Oh, it’s fine,” Roz assured as she sat at one end of the couch. 

Obi-Wan mentally shrugged as he put a piece of the cake each on a plate, grabbing a fork for each one, and brought them to the couch. Jango, meanwhile, claimed the other side of the couch, leaving the middle cushion for Obi-Wan. The two on the couch took their slices of cake before Obi-Wan sat down. 

“What are these drinks?” he asked. 

“Alcohol,” Jango answered. He reached down as Roz activated the screen on the wall with the remote and came back up with a suspiciously clear bottle containing liquid tinted red. “This is _tihaar_ infused with blumfruit.” 

“What do you boys want to watch?” 

“Something watchable,” Jango grumbled in return. He grabbed his own bottle containing a dark liquid. 

Obi-Wan twisted the lid off his bottle and sniffed. It was strong, that was for sure, and carried a fruity smell that must have been the blumfruit. He took a sip and almost spat it out like he contemplated doing with his meal. It burned! Damn Mandalorians and their spicy consumables! At least he could taste the fruit… 

“Here, try this.” Roz’s caramel-colored drink, procured from nowhere, was pushed in his hands. “Unfortunately you can’t have it but if you like it then we can get more of it ordered for you.” 

“It’s _ne’tra gal_ ,” Jango supplied before he took a drink from his bottle, “you’ll like it.” 

Obi-Wan took a cautious sip from Roz’s drink, and he did indeed enjoy it. It was sweet and didn’t burn his mouth. Then Jango held his drink out and he took it, taking a sip of something extremely bitter. He handed it back, making a pinched expression, and drank his _tihaar_ to wash the taste away. 

Jango chuckled. “ _Kri’gee_. You know, _Mando’ade_ folk humor suggests _tihaar_ can grease engine parts.” 

“Roz is right, your foods are sadistic,” Obi-Wan mumbled. He eyed his piece of _uj’alayi_ critically. Did Jango sneak some sort of spice into it? Did the ingredients they put together combine to make something that will finish burning his mouth to a crisp. It wasn’t until Roz took her fork and took her first bite he relented and decided to try the dessert. 

After several bites of the sickenly sweet cake (and after several swigs of his drink to lessen the amount of sugar coating his mouth), Obi-Wan came to realize how heavy the cake was. Don’t get him wrong, he enjoyed it. It was a pleasant dish, it was sweet and fulfilling, but it eventually became too much. 

It turned out Obi-Wan was unable to eat a full piece of cake. It was dense, something he wasn’t quite expecting. But according to Jango, that was another reason as to why Mandalorians favored it. It stored well, and since Mandalorians were nomads, the storing of foods was essential for their culture. Even Roz ate more cake than him, and Roz chides him on needing to eat more or else he’d end up breaking a bone from how lithe he was. 

The movie Roz put on looked like some sort of rom-com that had yet to pick up momentum. With his piece cake abandoned on the table, all he had to entertain himself with was his bottle of blumfruit-infused _tihaar_. He also had to decide if he was going to filter out his systems or allow himself to get drunk. If he drank a lot and didn’t get drunk that would be suspicious. But if he didn’t filter it then he would be relinquishing his own control over himself, something he did not do, and there was no guarantee he wouldn’t try doing Force tricks (though, he wasn’t the type to use the Force willy-nilly, even if he was inebriated). 

Jango eventually started grumbling about the movie, asking Roz why she chose a rom-com and pointed out that not even she liked them. All Roz did was laugh and said he could pick the next movie if he was so serious about watching movies instead of enjoying the company around him. He merely sent a dirty glare her way and tipped his head back to down a few swallows of his drink. 

The poor quality of the movie eventually led to a miniature drinking game. Any time the stereotypical twi’lek main character said something dull or predictable, gave googly eyes to her romantic interest, forget about her supposed betrothed, or made a comment about her small settlement that she would always consider home, they took a drink. Obi-Wan was feeling more and more annoyed with the twi’lek the more he had to drink. He wasn’t a fan of romantic comedies (if this movie even was one, there was _no_ comedy in it whatsoever), and realizing how many cliches were in this movie made him hate them even more. 

By the time the credits were rolling, Obi-Wan was very aware it was too late to be filtering his system now. 

Jango nor Obi-Wan picked the next movie. Roz still had the remote and she was selecting the next rom-com that was more rom than com because she enjoyed watching the boys critique the first movie so much. Obi-Wan didn’t have it in him to protest and Jango’s only sound of disagreement was one loud, drawn-out groan. 

There were even more drinking triggers in their current and then the following movie. Obi-Wan could confidently say that he was used to the tingling sensation of the _tihaar_. There were several bottles at his feet, from him and Jango. Their sips were beginning to get bigger and Obi-Wan felt his awareness start to lessen. His naturally-tensed shoulders were loose as he relaxed against the cushions and enjoyed the presences of Roz and Jango (just as Roz helpfully pointed out one of the cliches they drink to). 

Obi-Wan raised his bottle to clink against Jango’s when the man held his out in invitation. He tipped his head back and took a bit too big of a gulp but swallowed it without flinching. Jango let out a rumble that made it sound like he was laughing at something. 

And so the night carried on. Obi-Wan lost count of how many bottles he went through. Roz left them at one point but he was too engrossed in making fun of the films with Jango to care. The only thing he really noticed was that they had the entire couch to themselves and they were still sitting on the cushions next to each other. Though, Obi-Wan was a little too drunk to take note of that. 

“How many more of these are we gonna watch?” Obi-Wan mumbled. He closed his eyes for just a moment, during a scene where the main character and their love interest were having a conversation by an artificial fireplace. His eyes felt like he’d have to pry them open if he wanted to see the upcoming kiss so he then had reason to take another drink. 

“I was thinking during the morning cycle when Roz is awake again,” Jango answered sarcastically. 

She would have a fit seeing them still awake. Obi-Wan let a half-hearted chuckle at the thought of her entering the room and seeing them plastered. 

After he finished his current bottle, Obi-Wan didn’t bother grabbing another one. He couldn’t sit up straight anymore and was dangerously close to leaning against Jango. Sleep was starting to overtake him, whether he would admit it or not, and decided to lean his head back against the edge of the couch. And it didn’t take long for sleep to come. 

His dreams were blissfully blank. It was a welcomed change that probably wouldn’t persist the following nights. A steady hum echoed in his ears the entire time, but he came to realize, when beginning to wake, that was just the headache between his ears. A headache caused by the alcohol, the garbage that should be by his feet when he moved them but there was nothing. That was either a good or bad sign, but his back began to protest and so he decided to crack his eyes open. 

A new cycle has begun and the lights of the room weren’t quite up to full brightness yet, probably Roz’s doing. The low table was cleaned off and it looked like all of their trash was also gone. Probably _also_ from Roz. 

Obi-Wan blinked slowly and realization set in. His butt wasn’t in the same position as it was the night before and his pillow wasn’t the back of the couch. He was almost laying down but whatever his pillow wasn’t even the same height as the cushions. And why was he being stupid about this? He was naively trying to ignore the legs stretched out in front of himself that he had been gripping in his sleep. 

Looking, Obi-Wan could confirm that he had been using Jango’s hip as a pillow, his upper body twisted so his back was touching the cushions and his lower body twisted so he was laying on one hip. Obi-Wan’s cheeks immediately heated up; he had basically been using Jango’s _ass_ as a pillow. 

Jango, who was still thankfully asleep, had his head at an awkward angle against the armrest of the couch so his chin was digging into his sternum. A soft snore was escaping his lips and his face was devoid of emotion, so much more peaceful than the little glares or squinting expressions he liked to throw around. The horizontal scar on his forehead, the one that was carved between his worry lines, looked less pronounced with his face relaxed. His face paint was still intact, the krayt dragon perched like it was guarding him while he slept… _Stop staring!_

Obi-Wan looked away like he might have been caught. He forced his numb limbs to move, ignoring the bright flair-up in his back, and nearly smashed his face on the edge of the low table trying to get off the couch without waking Jango. He was able to escape back to his room without the _Mand’alor_ waking, a small victory even if Jango was in the deepest sleep of his life. 

He went straight to the refresher to prepare for a shower and get cleaned up when he stopped at the mirror and gawked at his reflection. The bright phoenix was still on his face, the clear liquid Savatia applied to it had held up nicely. But what had his eyes widening was his hair. Several little braids were sticking up in different places, and one particularly well-crafted braid went from his temple to the back of his neck, following the curve of his hairline behind his right ear. The long braid should almost be impossible due to the length of his hair but _Jango_ managed it. 

Kriff! So not only had Obi-Wan used Jango’s **_ass_ ** as a pillow, but he had probably fallen asleep before the man since Jango _braided_ his hair! Kriff, he is _never_ going to drink with Fett again… 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> God I've been waiting for this chapter! It's just one of the reasons why I was desperate to have some understanding of the calendar. 
> 
> Small disclaimers. I'm not much of a cook myself so I was a bit liberal with the whole process the boys went through. I'm also not a fan of spicy foods so pardon me if Obi's reaction doesn't seem totally accurate. I had to ask a friend what they experienced when they ate spicy foods. 
> 
> now excuse me while I go watch the hallmark channel for ideas. (please i am joking. though when it was on the other day i did get some 'ideas' but what i already had planned wasn't inspired by anything)
> 
> Translations:  
> buir - father or mother; parent  
> Aliit ori’shya tal’din - Family is more than blood  
> Mando'a - the Mandalorian language  
> Ke barjurir gar'ade, jagyc'ade kot'la a dalyc'ade kotla'shya - Train your sons to be strong but your daughters to be stronger  
> Mando - Mandalorian  
> tiingilar - an intensely spicy Mandalorian stew (in this case)/casserole  
> haarshun (bread) - Mandalorian-made bread. Translated literally as "see-bread" in Mando'a and "parchment bread" in Galactic Basic  
> uj'alayi - uj cake; a dense, very sweet flat cake made of crushed nuts, syrup, dried fruit, and spices, favored by Mandalorians  
> or’dinii - moron, fool  
> heturam - mouthburn, a sought-after state of intense burning in the mouth brought about by very spicy food  
> tihaar - colorless alcohol spirit with high alcohol content and strong taste that often burned the mouth and throat when ingested  
> ne’tra gal - black ale; a sticky ale with a sweet taste  
> kri’gee - a bitter Mandalorian ale with a significantly potent alcohol content


	15. Chapter 15

Their next job was another family dispute. But, unlike their last job, this one was guaranteed to be more violent. It brought them to Kreeling on a three-and-a-half-day trip. It was close to Naboo, but Naboo was in its own system, so Obi-Wan didn’t worry too much. 

Kreeling was a lush planet, consisting of hills, forests, oceans, few mountains, and plains. The farmlands were rich and the economy was strong. It was a small planet and the one who hired them had fairly high standing on the planet. Jango wasn’t quite sure but he was between a senator, monarch, or high-ranking government official. And for getting hired by a government official, he didn’t seem suspicious or thrown-off, which was different since he didn’t like politics. 

The job? A female Mikkian by the name of Idas was hiring them to retrieve her awol brother and protect her from him at the same time. It was a high-security job Jango had to buy as a tip from Roz, and when Idas was alerted of interest in her contract, she contacted Jango and said she would gladly give him any information if he would be in her presence on Kreeling. He agreed so she sent over encrypted coordinates and directions to land his ship in the private hangar of her palace. 

The first day after the Festival of Life ended, Jango and Obi-Wan packed their equipment up and left in the middle of the night cycle. It was their first job Jango did math to decide when they would land and what they would do once they got there. The ‘itinerary’ said they would arrive on Kreeling around midday. With landing directly at the palace, they would meet with Idas as soon as possible, then when they were done, they were welcomed to wander around the city, Noxire. 

(And after that first day of the Festival of Life, neither of them talked about the night they had and the compromising position they woke up in (for Obi-Wan, since he woke first and got the kriff out of there). Not even Roz said anything but Obi-Wan was beyond suspicious of her, especially when she blinked at him so innocently the first time he saw her the following day. He could only hope that she kept whatever she saw to herself.) 

On their short—in comparison to how far they’ve gone for other jobs—journey, they followed their usual schedule. Since training wasn’t as guided anymore, they more-or-less just sparred together or exercised at the same time as one another. During downtime, they would have their own hours alone and hours when they would try to do something to stay busy together—like play card or trivia games (both types of games Obi-Wan almost always excelled at). But still, with a short journey, they didn’t have to worry about being on the ship for an entire standard week just in one direction on the way to their destination. 

They arrived on Kreeling around the time Jango predicted. Idas’ guards attending to them were quick about letting them land and did thorough identity checks on them when they were still in the air. An entourage of fully-armored guards in gold and silver-decorated armor was there to greet them when they exited _Jaster’s Legacy_ , and they surprisingly let Obi-Wan and Jango keep their weapons on them. 

Obi-Wan left his vest and lightsabers on Outland, so all of his weapons, blaster pistol and falchion, were on display along with Jango’s. But before they fully got moving, they were required to temporarily remove their head accessories so the guards could confirm it was Fett and Khor and not two assassins dressed in _beskar’gam_ and standard mercenary armor. They complied without argument, and soon they were getting led through the palace’s corridors. 

The palace was too gaudy. The ceilings were high and the gold walls were adorned with fancy skirts and trimmings and expensive-looking paintings. The floor was made of pale cream tiles containing little flecks of gold to match the walls. The windows were large, floor-to-ceiling, and arched at the top with little designs made from the frames at the top. Clerestory windows were above smaller, matching windows on the taller walls. 

Obi-Wan couldn’t help staring. He hasn’t seen such displays of wealth in quite a while. He noticed Jango doing his own observing, angling his head in different directions, but not as much as Obi-Wan was doing. 

When they arrived in the throne room, a large open room bathed in golds and blues from the large, stained-glass windows, they were greeted by more guards. Idas was sitting on an elegant throne colored obsidian with white padding at the back of the room. 

Idas was a pale teal Mikkian, her eyes a shade that reflected the gold around them. She wore the same gold makeup around her eyes, and a shiny gloss on her lips that made them stand out. The mane of her head-tendrils flowed behind her freely, her tendrils all darker than her face near the tips. Her face was shaped like an upside-down triangle, the tip of it being her pointy, delicate chin. Her high cheekbones, however, didn’t stand out, and Obi-Wan believed they, along with her eyes, gave away her young age. And to sum up her position, she wore a simple gold circlet that matched the gold accents of her white and gold flowy gown. Matching gold jewelry decorated her ears and a simple bracelet was on each wrist, but nothing on her plain, slender fingers. 

When they were close enough, standing on the black carpet that led up to the throne, Obi-Wan bowed perfectly. 

“Dral Khor; honored to be in your presence.” 

Jango followed his example—less refined—and only said his name, no pleasantries, keeping his voice neutral. 

“I am Idas, as I am sure you both are aware. I’m glad I seemed to have hired the perfect mercenaries.” Yes, she was young. She couldn’t be any older than twenty-five standard years. 

“Well, being rude benefits no one,” Obi-Wan replied, a polite smile creeping its way onto his face. He felt Jango give him a look. Jango wasn’t used to Obi-Wan taking the lead, and neither was Obi-Wan. He just started to slip into politic-mode without realizing it. 

Idas cleared her throat. She barely shifted a hand and one of the guards standing next to her throne moved to hold her hand to help her stand. The guard on the other side of her throne followed her closely behind and the guard who helped her up joined the other once she was on her feet. 

“Let’s take a walk. The bounty is a bit confidential, and I don’t want any unwelcome guests to have more to talk about.” As she got closer to the two, she spoke lowly, “As far as they know, you two are possible suitors.” 

Obi-Wan’s eyebrows rose enough to be seen over the top of his visor and he was thankful for the neck gaiter of Jango’s that he still wore to cover his face. But he knew his visor’s audio systems weren’t big enough to cover his reddening ears. Jango made a little noise that resembled a scoff, but it would be hard for Idas to tell due to his helmet’s modulator. 

Idas walked between them, guiding the way. Her dress was just long enough that she had to pick up the sides some so it didn’t drag but it helped with her image and helped show off her wispy sleeves. Her heels clopped with every step she took, echoing off the walls around them. 

They walked down the halls, going deeper into the palace until they arrived at two ornate doors. A guard stood on each side of the doorway and they opened the doors without being commanded. Idas led the way inside and all of the guards stayed out in the hall. 

They were in her bedroom, it seemed. The room carried the same gold theme as the rest of the palace but the soft, dark material of the furniture helped mute the brightness a bit. There were a lot of black fabrics, the curtains and bedsheets being the largest concentration of it. Idas walked over to her bed and sat at the foot of it, her posture loosening up with every stride until she was seated. She motioned to the plush chairs nearby, welcoming the two men to sit. Obi-Wan moved first and Jango followed a bit reluctantly. 

“I will say this right now, I don’t like being referred to as a suitor without being told first,” Jango warned. He had removed his helmet when the bedroom doors closed behind them to be polite, but Obi-Wan knew how badly he wanted to put it back on. He himself reached up to loosen his visor so it sat around his neck with his pulled-down neck gaiter. 

Idas smiled tightly, looking a few years older and embarrassed. “I do apologize. It’s politics and all that. Only my closest guards know the purpose of your visit here. Rumors are circulating about invited guests and the most popular rumor is about suitors, so that is what I’m going with. It’s easier than saying I hired some mercenaries to protect me from my brother as they go to retrieve him.” 

“How old are you, if you don’t mind me asking?” Obi-Wan questioned gently. 

The Mikkian’s gold-rimmed eyes darted to him. “I am nineteen. I turn twenty in a few months if I don’t die first.” 

“Isn’t that a bit young?” 

She shrugged. “Who else is to lead when your parents are no longer in the picture and you are older than your only other sibling by a few minutes?” She smiled, shining her perfect white teeth. “It is my duty and I’ve accepted it. It’s not ideal, but my being in power is better than the alternative.” 

“The alternative being your brother?” Jango stated it like a question. 

Idas nodded curtly. “We both grew up with the same tutoring and he ended up a hellion. His antics were innocent at first but now he has gotten involved with black markets, smuggling, and criminals. And now he has made attempts on my life. My guards have done their jobs splendidly, but my advisors suggested I get my brother contained before he gets himself killed or succeeds in killing me. That is the reason you two are here. I have no doubts, after hearing about my ‘posting’, he will have taken his own actions to protect himself.” 

That made sense. Jango didn’t say much about the initial posting, and Obi-Wan didn’t exactly see it, but the number of steps Jango went through to purchase a tip from Roz and then get the actual information was a decent amount. The way Idas said that made it sound like her posting was actually about attracting suitors. 

“Like what?” Obi-Wan wondered. 

“Maerth’s the type to hire help. He’s capable of defending himself but he fights like a cornered Loth-cat. He wouldn’t be smart enough to think I was hiring help when I put up the posting about suitors—” bingo “—but he is paranoid enough to hire guards or gather his friends for a little extra protection for a few weeks.” 

Idas went on to explain that, even though Maerth left years ago, denouncing any title or position he had, he still was considered royalty and his band of misfits follow him with unwavering loyalty because of that. If he wanted to, he could return any time he wanted and reclaim his position of next-in-line and title of prince. Idas was willing to welcome her brother back, willing to put her brother’s actions in the past and regard him in a new light. But Maerth only cared about power and would stab her in the back first chance he got. She acknowledged that. He would return if he got the throne, but he doesn’t need to return when his royalty is recognized elsewhere and he is leading like he believes he should be. In fact, Idas wasn’t surprised if Maerth was gathering more misfits to join with his own so he could take the title and position he wants through force. 

“And what do you plan on doing with him when we return him to you?” 

Idas seemed to freeze at Obi-Wan’s question. She didn’t freeze like she was caught in a lie, she froze because she knew the answer would be harsh. She bit her lip and gave him a side-eyed look. 

“The family doctors know a procedure that would essentially calm Maerth down. Make him a bit… tranquil, per se.” Obi-Wan immediately frowned and she responded with a sigh. “See, it’s a family matter, it shouldn’t be your business We’re not taking away his free will, but we will remove a part of him that makes him the ticking time bomb he always has been.” 

Maybe it wasn’t taking away his free will but it would be altering Maerth as a whole. If it went wrong, he wouldn’t be the same being he knows himself as and he wouldn’t remember who he used to be. Even if it all went according to plan, it was barbaric if anything. It’s wrong. 

“How does it make you any better than him?” Obi-Wan demanded. 

Idas sprang to her feet. “It doesn’t! But I’m so _tired_ of fearing for my life and living without my family!” Obi-Wan saw her composure crack for a brief second. She reeled herself in quickly, smoothening her dress out, but there were remnants of her outburst in the Force. She walked over to the little counter along the edge of the wall to pour herself a glass of a gold wine. She lifted it to her lips and drank a few swallows of it. 

“It doesn’t,” she repeated, calmer. She blinked and sent a warning glare Obi-Wan’s way but that faded quickly and she was back to being calm, even in the Force. He had to wonder if she was Force-sensitive. The procedure her family doctors would do on Maerth sounded a lot like what certain Force abilities can do. 

“But even I don’t get my brother back, then I’m at least making Noxire and Kreeling safer.” 

The room was silent. Idas stared at her wine, swishing it around her glass and contemplating something silently. 

“Is me trying to protect my people the deciding factor of you taking the bounty?” 

Obi-Wan was against rewriting someone’s memories. You were essentially changing their entire being. Their personality may not ever be the same, and more often than not, they end up suffering for the rest of their lives. And not to mention that you were interrupting someone’s self-identity, completely bypassing and disrupting any sense of security. He was against the procedure… but he understood that it should be done. Maerth has tried killing his sister various times, and if he’s a danger to Noxire, if not the entirety of Kreeling, then he should be dealt with. 

He looked at Jango and found the man giving him a questioning stare back. Though Jango paid to get access to the bounty, it appeared he was giving Obi-Wan the option to turn around all because of his morals. Strange… 

Obi-Wan stared where Idas first sat. “No. I understand your reasoning. I don’t support the procedure, but I support trying to protect your people. I hope your brother’s mind can be salvaged, we both know there’s a low chance you’re getting your brother back.” He looked at her and he was surprised at how steely her expression was. 

“Maerth may be a monster now, but I know my brother is still in there. I _will_ get him back.” 

Jango chuckled, drawing the eyes of the other two to him. “So it’s decided. We’ll take your bounty. Let’s drop the discussion because it’s not our business. When do we act, how will we act, and what’s the general plan?” 

Idas perked up. “Maerth probably won’t act first, even if he hired his own help. I have talked to my advisors and guards, and we believe one of you should approach his base while the other stays behind with me.” 

Obi-Wan noticed Jango tense. Splitting up hasn’t worked well in the past for them. 

The Mikkian noticed. “Do you have a different idea?” 

“You have guards here, clearly. Why can’t they protect you while we go capture Maerth?” Obi-Wan proposed. 

“Because Maerth probably hired his own bounty hunter. I love my guards and trust in their abilities, but bounty hunters fight bounty hunters. I can’t put them in harm’s way like that.” She finished her wine and rejoined the two. “My plan will work. You are getting paid to follow my plan, so you’ll follow it.” She smiled like she didn’t just threaten to withhold their pay. 

“Now, may I show you to your room? You can’t set out tonight, not with the festival going on. The plan will be in motion tomorrow.” 

They didn’t get the chance to argue, it seemed. She regained her elegance, her posture straightening and her face looking indifferent, as she led the way out of her room. Jango put his helmet on, Obi-Wan following his lead by clipping his visor in place over his eyes. Idas’ guards were still around the door, and the ones that came with them from the throne room were lined up along the opposite wall. 

“Your Highness,” one greeted. 

“Hello,” she returned pleasantly. “We’re showing my guests to their room. Pip, please go get some sleep clothes that will fit them. The rest of you, with me.” 

The two guards of her room didn’t budge, but the tallest guard, the only one with a teal sash around their waist, gave a little salute and headed in the opposite direction swiftly. Meanwhile, Idas walked on with purpose. She brought them down several halls, seemingly leading them to an entirely different wing of the place, before stopping in front of a plain set of doors in a paler hall than the others. She smiled sweetly as two guards opened the doors without being commanded to and she stepped in. 

The room was large and grand. It resembled Idas’ own room, with the size, bed along the side of the room, a kitchenette, a circle of couches facing a flatscreen on the wall, a walk-in closet next to the bed, refresher through a door in the corner, and balcony on the wall opposite of the bed. There weren’t many windows, and the windows that were present were smaller than the previous ones they’ve seen, and the biggest windows being next to and above the balcony doors. 

“Only one bed, I’m afraid, but it’s _the_ best guest suite in this palace.” She continued to the center of the room and looked around. “The bed is big, though, and the refresher has two sinks, one toilet, one bath, and one shower. Many different types of drinks in the fridge. If there’s anything you need, I’ve left a comlink by the couch. It will put you in direct contact with someone in my personal guard.” 

She began to back out of the room quickly. “I’ll see you later or tomorrow!” Her guards followed her out of the room and shut the door behind them. 

Jango was groaning a second later. He unclipped his _buy’ce_ , setting it on the bed, and went to sit down on one of the couches. Obi-Wan sat down on the bed, setting Jango’s _buy’ce_ on his lap. He loosened his visor so it was around his neck again, musing distantly over the weight on his lap. Not as heavy as he expected, but heavier than he thought a _buy’ce_ would be. 

“We have a ship, we should stay on her instead. We’ll have to go back for supplies, anyway,” Jango grumbled. “What are your predictions that we are dealing with more Force-sensitives?” 

Obi-Wan frowned at the black T-shaped visor as he put his thumbs on the two little arrows pointing away from each other above it. “They’re low but it’s never impossible. I think Idas would warn us if Maerth was, but she doesn’t have reason to tell us if she is.” 

“And you trust her? Even if she’s a Force user?” 

Obi-Wan raised his head when he felt Jango looking at him. Cold brown eyes softened when they looked between Obi-Wan and his _buy’ce_. Obi-Wan didn’t put the piece of armor down, unsure of what Jango was currently thinking about. “Yes.” 

The Mandalorian started to nod and turned toward the flatscreen when there was a knock at their door. Jango tensed like a surprised animal. “Answer that,” he ordered. 

The ex-Jedi set aside the silver helmet so he could get to his feet and answer the door. When he opened it, he was greeted by Pip, still armored and at least an entire foot taller than him. Pip was holding a small stack of black silk clothes. 

“Your sleeping clothes,” Pip said. 

Obi-Wan accepted the stack of clothes hesitantly. “What if they don’t fit?” 

“They’ll fit.” Pip’s blank silver-accented horizontal visor matched their emotionless voice. They turned and held out two gold pendant medallions. “And two unlimited passes to use at the festival for free food, drinks, and activities, all covered by Idas.” 

There wasn’t any time to object and try to give the pendants back. Pip pulled the door closed without waiting for Obi-Wan to reply and presumably left. 

“They’ll fit…” Jango mocked from the couch. He was leaning back into the cushions, pinching the bridge of his nose and squeezing his eyes shut like he was fighting a headache. Obi-Wan set the clothes on the bed and watched Fett warily as if the man might explode. “We came here to do the job, not be roped in like we’re her people.” 

Disagreeing with Jango could cause an argument or for him to grow angry. Agreeing with him might cause him to start ranting. While disagreeing with him was the worst idea, agreeing with him could also cause issues by encouraging him. Obi-Wan agreed with him, mostly, but saw Idas’ point of trying to keep them contained. He didn’t exactly agree with the way they were going about… 

Obi-Wan sighed, sitting back down on the bed and putting one of the pendants on around his neck. “Maybe she has it all planned out. She knows the planet and her brother better than we do.” 

“But you were ready to tell her she couldn’t do whatever procedure to her own brother—who she knows better than we do—because your moral compass wouldn’t allow that.” 

“Jango…” the ex-Jedi pleaded. He caught the _Mand’alor_ moving his head like he was going to look at his companion but stopped. “Yes, fine, it wasn’t my place to tell her what she can and can’t do, but I’m not going to make working for her difficult. We are here tonight and tomorrow definitely. That’s just one and a half days we have to be civil.” 

“We could have been off the planet by tomorrow if she didn’t feel the need to leash us.” 

So Jango wasn’t in the mood to talk it through. Obi-Wan wasn’t surprised by that and understood. His argument was hypocritical and therefore it was pointless when his own words could be used against him. Best to leave Jango alone so they could both cool down. 

He stood, heading for the door. When his hand was on the doorknob, Jango spoke up. “Wait.” 

“No, I’m going to let you sulk in peace.” Obi-Wan turned to look at Jango and found the man on his feet staring at his helmet as if he was deciding if he wanted to grab it. 

“Well, I’m not going to let you leave me alone in this _honeymoon suite_ like a lover waiting for their partner to return from a cigarette break after a dance in the sheets,” Jango grumbled. He decided to don his helmet and joined Obi-Wan by the door. Obi-Wan, who quickly put his headgear on so he could hide the blooming blush from the lewd thought. Jango took the other pendant and decided to tie it around a vambrace (because it wouldn’t fit over the top of his _buy’ce_ that was already secured in place). 

They didn’t know the way out of the palace, especially since they entered through the hangar, but a guard patrolling the halls found and led them to a locked-down entrance that they would have to go through again coming back. The path itself led down to the city discreetly and they were told to not let others see them take it back up. The guards on duty also requested they be back by a certain time, especially since they were considered Idas’ suitors and the guards’ responsibility. 

When they started down the path toward the city, Jango made a sarcastic comment about needing to be babysat even though he was the one in a full set of _beskar’gam_. 

The walk was short but it felt much longer walking next to an irked Jango. At first, he was angry with how the guards addressed them. He knew he and Obi-Wan could take care of themselves perfectly but the guards didn’t. He was a Mandalorian, _the_ Mandalorian. He verbally scoffed at the thought of needing palace guards to protect him. Then, when the anger faded, he was irked due to their temporary living conditions (and Obi-Wan only knew this because he was, admittedly, tapping the surface of Jango’s thoughts through the Force). He didn’t want to be rooming with Dral, especially in the palace’s honeymoon suite. He was beyond suspicious of Idas, knowing there were other guest rooms with more than one bed. Though the thought of not having personal space thanks to a stranger caused anger, at the same time, the thought of being in the same room in an unfamiliar area with Dral soothed him. 

Jango’s thoughts were in the process of chasing each other in circles and it was enough to give Obi-Wan a headache. He gave Jango his space to think and instead focused on how long it took to get to the city so they’d have an idea of when to leave. As much as he also wasn’t a fan of getting treated like children by the guards, he didn’t want them to hate him and Jango because they felt like being as mature as rebellious teens. 

The path brought them to a quiet part of the city that resembled a checkpoint. There were a few guards hidden alongside buildings and a few local peacekeepers were lounging on benches. The local precinct was right next to the path, though, so the present guards and peacekeepers made sense. 

Obi-Wan stared at one of the guards. The guard nodded to him. He couldn’t tell if he was comforted, knowing Idas’ guards could all recognize him, or freaked out. Jango seemed to still be at war with himself and seeing more palace guards fired him up even more. 

The city of Noxire was nothing spectacular. It was surrounded by trees and fields with a semi-clear view of the palace (depending on where you stood). The closest mountain range could be seen beyond the palace and a valley on the edge of the city. Where they were located, it was clearly a zone where there were fewer vehicles and lots of public spaces. It was probably where Idas intended them to get their food and enjoy the festivities so they could return before their unofficial curfew. 

Jango wasn’t any happier walking by food stalls. He seemed to get even grumpier when they came to a little square where people were joyously dancing to a live band. Obi-Wan couldn’t tell if they were celebrating the Festival of Life still or a planet-specific holiday and he felt himself beginning to not care the longer Jango was unhappy. 

Clicking the button on his visor where his audio boxes were, he spoke softly so his comlink would pick his voice up, “Would you rather we go back to the ship? There’s no point in trying to enjoy the festival if you’re going to act like a storm cloud the entire time.” 

“I am enjoying it.” Jango sounded offended. He wasn’t, though, and maybe calling Jango out on his mood wasn’t the best idea. 

“You’re clearly not,” Obi-Wan retorted. 

Jango turned to him, ready to argue. At the same time, some children ran by, happily screaming at the top of their lungs as they chased each other. One of the last children, probably one of the older ones, collided with the back of Obi-Wan. Obi-Wan’s eyes widened. Reactively, he reached out to grab Jango before he could fall but the other man was already almost grabbing his arms to stop him from falling. Then, to make it worse, another kid came barreling through, pushing Obi-Wan and Jango together, chest-to-chest. 

The dancers were coming around right then, sweeping the two into whatever flowing dance they were participating in. It was a dance that required you to stick with your partner and Jango and Obi-Wan did just that. They had to follow in the footsteps of others, create bridges with their arms for others to go under, went under the bridges themselves, constantly bowed to one another, and dance around each other like one was holding a treat and the other was trying to steal it. Obi-Wan was pretty sure his feet were off the ground for more than three seconds when Jango had to lift him at one point. 

And it was… _fun_. Obi-Wan never celebrated like he was now. Jedi didn’t usually dance. Maybe once as children, but in the Padawan stage, they tended to grow out of their innocence and become the emotionless beings Jedi are known to be. All from destroying his career as a Jedi, he was enjoying this moment in time, celebrating as any being can (and should). It made him finally realize how much he was missing as a Jedi, how much freedom was out of his reach for years. The wind racing through his (about) three-inch-long hair was probably one of the first symbols of freedom he has allowed himself to absorb. 

However, as nice as the realizations Obi-Wan was having, following the motions was slightly difficult since they were thrown right in. They were lucky the dancing didn’t last long, and Jango and Obi-Wan ended up with their chests together again, panting from trying to keep up with the others. Obi-Wan’s neck gaiter had fallen down so his exuberant smile was on display. Jango’s hands were settled on his waist this time, the proper place to put them according to the dance. 

Jango leaned forward so the front of his helmet was almost touching Obi-Wan’s forehead and insisted in a low voice, “I’m having a _great_ time.” 

Obi-Wan’s nose crinkled in response but it didn’t last long when he realized others were staring at them, staring especially at Jango. Made sense, Mandalorians weren’t seen every day and Jango’s armor wasn’t easy to miss. 

But, despite the number of eyes on them, Jango didn’t move. It was impossible to tell what emotion he was displaying because of his _buy’ce_. He felt happy in the Force, and he was breathing heavily too, but Obi-Wan felt himself wanting to see a responding smile for assurance. He felt himself wanting to reach up to find the clasps, unclip the helmet, and lift it to see one of Jango’s rare grins. He was basking in the man’s joy, and it felt amazing, indescribable. 

And time seemed to catch up to them. Obi-Wan moved a second before Jango. He took a step back and pulled the piece of fabric up to hide his lower face once more. Jango shifted away, taking a look at their surroundings. 

They got over their awkwardness and out of sight of their onlookers. Though not much time passed between them leaving and the start of their dancing, they went to look at the food stands. 

The atmosphere between them was silent and charged with anticipation. It wasn’t the comforting type of silence Obi-Wan related to Jango. It was too tense for him, but he decided to stay quiet for the moment. 

In a silent agreement, they approached a food stand selling sandwiches and drinks. All they did was show their medallions and the vendor’s eyes widened and gave them their meals for free. They both got a sandwich with bird meat on it, fried tubers, and some lightly spiced alcohol made from the current year’s harvest. They found an empty bench in the nearest park and decided to eat there. Since there was no one else in the park, Jango comfortably took his helmet off. 

“How long are we going to stay out tonight?” Obi-Wan asked, looking down at his sandwich. 

Jango shrugged. “I was thinking until they demanded us back.” There was some humor in his voice, but also from knowing Jango, he was probably serious about testing his luck with Idas’ guards. 

“I can’t say you have my support in that.” 

Obi-Wan’s shoulder was nudged so he looked at the other man, who replied mischievously, “I can promise to make avoiding our followers will be as fun as dancing.” 

They were still being followed? Obi-Wan jerked his head around until he saw it. In a walkway they went through to get to the park, a guard was standing along the wall and pointing in their direction. The guard was a sizable distance away but it made Obi-Wan go on high alert. How could he be so stupid to pay so little attention? Jango had known but for how long? 

“They were probably watching when we were dancing, too, and I only noticed when we sat down. I don’t blame you and you can’t be at fault for realizing so late,” Jango assured. Obi-Wan still didn’t relax so his arm was flicked. “Just eat and we can get a move on when we’re done.” 

Obi-Wan ate, but not with a clear head. Did Idas not trust them? Sure, they’re bounty hunters, but they had to pay to get access to the job. Thinking they could double-cross her was understandable, but why allow them down into the city and not locked up in the palace if she thought that? Plus, she already was alone in her bedroom with them, and she told them some personal things that any smart contractor wouldn’t do if they didn’t trust who they were hiring. Maybe the thing bothering him the most was the fact that they were being followed. He didn’t like being followed, especially when he’s unaware of it like before. 

Jango ate his meal fast, chugging his spiked drink quickly to put his _buy’ce_ on and keep an eye out. Obi-Wan had lost a lot of his appetite so eating became a bit of a struggle. He ate his entire meal, forcing his own alcoholic beverage down, but in double the time that Jango did. Jango assured him it was fine but it was a little too late to try giving him confidence. 

They threw their trash away in the nearest waste bin. Jango linked their arms and led them away at a brisk pace. Obi-Wan tried reaching out with the Force in an attempt to locate the guard’s position but they were moving too fast for him to pinpoint the correct being. After they went around their first corner, their fast walking pace evolved to a sprint. 

Keeping up with Jango—since he wasn’t using his jetpack for assistance—wasn’t hard. With their arms linked, Obi-Wan was surprised they weren’t tripping over each other, but he and Jango were both trained warriors, so should he be surprised? They didn’t always work perfectly like cogs in a machine, so he supposed being surprised was all right. 

It’s like they were back on Chandrila, running through the streets and alleys. But this time they weren’t running for their lives. They were playing a game of tag and the guard was it. Might and well add hide-and-seek, while they were at it. Except they were moving as one, two men of different muscle masses and two different brains, yet they turned the same corners at the same time and communicated without words on how fast to run. It was beautiful, if one with a strategic mind thought about it. 

Jango finally turned them down a dead-end alley. He stumbled to a stop and froze. He could try to boost himself up to the lowest roof and Obi-Wan could find a way up to him. Or they could try a different alley, keep up the chase. If they moved now, they could get to a different alley before their chaperon caught up to them. 

But instead, Jango unclipped his helmet and looked at Obi-Wan, breathing heavily and eyes shining wildly. He shoved his _buy’ce_ into Obi-Wan’s hands and pushed the other man against the alley wall, caging him in by planting his hands on both sides of Obi-Wan’s head. 

Obi-Wan’s brain was trying to catch up and hold Jango’s _buy’ce_ without dropping it out of shock. Jango was looming over him, sweating and panting from exertion. They weren’t even hidden well! Jango’s jetpack was obvious on his back and his silver _beskar_ was too good at reflecting light. Obi-Wan was the one that was mostly hidden by some sort of contraption probably used for garbage and how good is that? 

He risked looking at Jango and regretted it. Jango didn’t look any different, don’t get him wrong, but Jango had a bit different of an _appearance_ when he’s ruffled like he currently was (past training was an exception, however, especially during the time when they both harbored slight feelings of hatred toward one another). He didn’t look the most kept and his rebellious attitude was bright in his eyes. He was also in need of a haircut; some of his little curls were plastered to his forehead after getting pressed there due to his helmet and they weren’t helping calm his appearance at all. 

The _Mand’alor_ leaned forward suddenly. His face was almost pressed into the crook of Obi-Wan’s neck. He shushed his companion when he heard a sound of confusion start to escape the younger man, his puffs of air causing a chill to go down Obi-Wan’s spine. Obi-Wan couldn’t suppress the shiver and found himself trying to ignore the uncomfortable feeling blossoming in his chest. 

The ex-Jedi couldn’t say how long they were like that. He was doing his best to stay calm and keep everything about him under control. Only when he heard an unfamiliar voice, he felt disappointed. 

“Maybe it is best if you two return to the palace before you cause more than just me trouble.” 

Jango pulled back first to glare at the guard; Obi-Wan stayed where he was, pressing himself against the wall, to regain his bearings. His heart was beating faster than it should be. He just about slid to the ground but Jango grabbed his arm to pull him along. It was then he noticed the pendant attached to Jango’s vambrace dimly blinking green. They were being tracked, they could have run all they liked and a guard still would have found them. 

That led to them getting escorted back to the palace like guilty children. They were brought through quiet passageways but they still had to go by the little post where the peacekeepers and other guards were. A few of them stared curiously but most were smart enough to ignore Idas’ ‘suitors’. 

Their guard led them all the way to their room. They handed back their pendants and the guard shut the door after them. It wasn’t clear if the door was locked and Obi-Wan didn’t want to be the one to test it. 

Jango went to the refresher first. Obi-Wan went to the balcony to sit and watch the calm valley below. 

The night air was chilly. It would be enough to turn fingers numb after twenty minutes, enough to make a sane person head back inside. But, instead, he sat down by the railing and started breathing like he was about to meditate. There was no way he was going to meditate, but getting in the same mindset would calm him. He had too many nerves to soothe and no privacy to take care of them. 

His mind was blank as he stared into the darkness below. There was so much he wanted to digest or try to make sense of and no time to do so. Like why were he and Jango running from a simple guard as if they were teen lovers trying to escape the planet to leave their unsupportive family? Jango obviously didn’t like the guards Idas assigned to them, but he couldn’t have wanted to evade prying eyes so badly he was willing to get caught in an alley pretending to snog Obi-Wan. After all, they were supposed to be on the planet as eligible suitors for Idas. Jango was all for keeping the image he has to curate for a job, so even though Idas was the one who created the excuse for him being on the planet, why would he try to throw it away? Sure, Maerth probably would know who Jango is, but not the rest of the planet. 

He had to wonder if his life would be this complicated if he had just stayed in the Order. His midi-chlorian count would have him turned into a walking science project but at least he would still be on a leash, have less opportunity for free will, and be controlled by the Galactic Senate. As a Jedi, he would just be told to release his feelings into the Force. Stop worrying so much, you’ll attract the dark side. He could worry all he wanted now, he has already reached out to the dark side a few times. 

His body deflated, he became aware of the feeling of the air against his skin. It was warm, humid, like it had a charge to it. It felt like there was a storm approaching. At that moment, he was tapped on the shoulder. He turned tiredly to see Jango in his black silk sleep clothes. His hair was recently toweled, the evidence being his hair still damp and sticking up in different directions. 

“Your turn,” was all Jango said before he headed back inside. 

Obi-Wan decided to get up. He didn’t want to think anymore, and if he wanted to, the shower was a viable place to do so. He grabbed his sleep clothes from the bed and headed to the refresher, passing Jango who was snooping around the kitchenette. 

Obi-Wan started filling the tub with warm water and undressed in the meantime. He kicked his boots off and put them in a pile with his armor and headgear when he unclipped it all. His clothes underneath that went to its own separate pile because he was unsure if he would have to put it back on to head back to _Jaster’s Legacy_ the next day (if they even allow them to). That meant his smalls had to go on the pile with the sleep clothes. Wearing smalls for the second day in a row was the least of his problems and not the first time he has ever had to do it… 

Once the dark tub was filled, he climbed in and sat there for a moment. The jets turned on automatically, sensing his presence, but he didn’t react. Momentary numbness took over his body, a chill went down his spine, goosebumps formed on his arms. The water was warm, comfortable and uncomfortable at the same time. He wanted to drown but valued his life too much at the same time. 

Why was it all crashing into him _now_? About a third of the year down and now he is rethinking this path? Jango seems confident Obi-Wan’s training won’t last an entire year and they talked like Obi-Wan was going to stick around whether he would continue to work with Jango or not. But he missed being a Jedi, missed being able to reach out to the Force whenever he wanted to. He found himself truly missing getting ordered around. Political jobs that were a bore were at least safer than what he was currently doing. As a Jedi, he simply was. As a mercenary, he is Dral Khor, student to the legendary bounty hunter and True Mandalorian leader Jango Fett. His only friends were Jango and Roz, his crèche wherever they were and living their lives as Jedi, what they all thought they were going to be until they were old… 

Obi-Wan was buried in his thoughts until the water was beginning to turn lukewarm. Realizing the temperature change, he used the Force to heat the water just so he could wash his hair and scrub the sweat off his skin. When he deemed himself clean enough, he drained the tub, dried off, and got dressed. 

He walked out of the refresher to see Jango didn’t have his shirt on, displaying his muscled torso that he had used many times against Obi-Wan in training. Except the muscles weren’t being used to pin him to one of the mats until he tapped out or until he was let go because the other thought he passed out. Jango was just lounging in bed on the side he claimed as his. He was frowning at his datapad then turned his frown to the other man. 

Obi-Wan had to avert his gaze before his face could turn bright red. 

“Does it bother you I’m not wearing a shirt?” Jango sighed. He was under the covers, they were at his waist, but he pulled them up a bit higher. 

“N-No,” Obi-Wan stuttered lamely. Kriff, his face was heating up… “It’s fine, whatever makes you most comfortable.” 

“And if you’re not comfortable?” 

“I’ll get over myself.

Jango snorted. “Sure.” 

They settled for bed silently. Jango deactivated his datapad and settled on his side, facing away from Obi-Wan. Obi-Wan turned off the lights and made sure their room and balcony doors were locked before he slipped into bed and mimicked Jango’s position. 

He fell asleep right away but didn’t stay asleep. Only a few hours had passed when he found his eyes snapping open as if he wasn’t tired at all. He was still facing away from Jango but wasn’t as close to the edge of the bed as before. Sitting up and looking at his companion revealed that Jango was sleeping like a starfish. He also wasn’t as close to the edge of the bed but Obi-Wan had made up for it by moving toward the foot of the bed in his sleep. 

He hated sleeping in big beds because he moved around too much. Had he stayed asleep much longer, good chance he would have ended up much closer to Jango in the morning. 

Trying not to wake Jango, Obi-Wan slid out of bed. The older man was still asleep. Action accomplished. His feet carried him to the door, he figured out how to unlock it, and entered the hallway, shutting the door silently behind him. 

The hallway was dim. Not as many lights were on as before, and the only lights that were activated were little floor lamps built into the walls. There was no one around, not even a guard watching their room, so Obi-Wan let his feet carry him toward the center of the palace. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I wanted to keep the Kreeling chapters close in posting like the Hoth chapters, but due to their sheer size, I've decided to make them follow the every-other-week schedule. As much as I hate making you guys wait for 2 weeks (even for all chapters, not just these two, I need to make sure I have enough time to write), this 'arc' might be worth the wait... ;)


	16. Chapter 16

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Have it a couple of days early!

The palace had an eerie feeling to it without the same activity as they saw when they arrived and went through the first time. It was absolutely silent, not even the air vents or lights hummed. It made it a lot easier to hear the quiet tapping of an approaching guard, and since Obi-Wan was barefoot, he was virtually silent and able to take a different hall before he would meet the guard. 

However, taking that hall made him ultimately lost. His goal wasn’t to escape, merely explore, but he hoped to stick to halls he tread at least once. The hall he was currently walking down was a darker gold than what he has seen before. It could almost be described as tarnished gold, but knowing royalty, that wouldn’t be allowed in a palace. It had to be a design choice, but the reason escaped Obi-Wan. 

Taking enough turns and coming across no guards eventually led him outside to a garden. The garden was still within the boundaries of the palace, but it was large and open and probably not meant for guests. The paths were narrow and the plants were thick and green, the flowers bright and blossoming, fruits ripe and ready for eating. There were a few small benches scattered equally and the sound of a fountain deeper in was drawing him closer. Though, he definitely wasn’t expecting to meet anyone there. 

Idas sat on the edge of the fountain, cradling a stemless bowl-shaped flower with long, white petals. It was unclear if she knew he was there right away, but she didn’t startle when she noticed Obi-Wan. 

“This is my private garden, and my guards roam the halls at night. How, might I inquire, did you get here without raising alarm?” She took her studious gaze off the flower to turn it on Obi-Wan, pulling her negligee around her tighter. _Great_. Obi-Wan looked away as soon as he noticed the material and he could feel his cheeks were heating up again. 

What she was wearing was none of his business! It’s just that his stupid virgin mind was blown away by any implication of anyone dressing down! 

Idas wasn’t dressed immodestly. She had none of her gold jewelry on as before and only traces of her gold makeup remained. Some of the tendrils of her mane were being held down by a simple golden headband. Her white, sheer gown with a few golden accents was a bit risque, but it wasn’t Obi-Wan’s place to comment on it or stare. Personally, he thought it was a bit strange to wear it when someone, especially from her guard could walk in, but again, it wasn’t his place and who knows, maybe the guards have seen her with even less on (Obi-Wan wasn’t implying anything, he was just a bit oblivious due to never being royalty himself). 

“I’ve learned from the best. One might even say I’m better at stealth than Jango is,” Obi-Wan defended. 

Something dark crossed Idas’ face. She was contemplating, staring at nothing in the distance, her sharp features in their position that made her look older. Deciding in her head, she looked at Obi-Wan again. “Really?” Her voice was light and careful. “I must admit, I looked you and Fett up when I saw that he bought the tip and supplied his associates. I was delighted to see the best bounty hunter in the galaxy wanted to take my job. He is reputable and a Mandalorian, nothing better than that. But then I looked you up. All I got was a fake-looking page about being a sword-for-hire and recent information about you being Fett’s new ‘student’. Your profile hints you’re easily recognized by your face mask matching Fett’s color scheme and a visor from the Core Worlds.” 

She blinked, reeling in her expressionless face to finally outright glare at Obi-Wan. “I trust Fett, but I don’t trust you, Khor.” 

Obi-Wan didn’t react right away. He had to be careful with his words. Underestimating one’s skills, even just observation skills, can be risky. Acting offended could make him suspicious, the same as acting shocked. Simply going along with Idas, no matter which way she went, might be his only option. 

“May I ask why?” 

The Mikkian raised an eyebrow, tight smirk on only half of her lips. “You know politics. You bowed when you greeted me.” 

“Jango bowed, too.” 

“He was just mirroring you. Fett isn’t the type to bow upon meeting anyone with a rank.” She huffed like she heard a poor joke. “Plus your accent. It’s refined, so much more than Fett’s. And should I remind you that you got here without alerting my guards? I see the way your brain works behind your eyes, by the way. Whether you’re calculating something or not, I can tell it’s being created by a dangerous mind.” 

They stared at each, silence droning around them. Idas broke away first to look down at the flower again. 

“But, I suppose you haven’t killed me yet. You’re standing there, weaponless, and we are both vulnerable, so I suppose I do have some trust in you. You and Fett seem to make a good team. I’m grateful to have hired such capable hunters.” 

“Jango is a good teacher,” Obi-Wan replied matter-of-factly. 

Idas snorted softly, incredulously. “That’s cute.” 

“Pardon?” 

She set the flower in the fountain, watching it float on the surface of the water for a moment. A smile was on her face when she turned to look at him again. “He stands very close to you, even for being your teacher; or familiar with you, depends on how you want to word it. With that bucket on, I’m sure he can hide his emotions all he wants, but body language is a dead giveaway. I’m not going to speak for him, but he seems to feel quite a bit more for you than what you believe.” 

Obi-Wan blundered. His words all stopped on his tongue. No, Jango hated him at times. Jango said he doesn’t mind Obi-Wan sticking around for work once his training is complete, but Jango is a loner at heart. Pity and Roz are making him keep Obi-Wan around. And he only stood near Jango on Kreeling because it was an unfamiliar planet and Jango knew the importance of keeping your allies near in case of attack. 

Idas chuckled to herself. She stood suddenly and approached Obi-Wan. She cupped his cheeks in her soft hands. “You have a pretty face. I hope you know how to use it. And, while I know you two aren’t truly my suitors, I don’t mind extending the offer to you. You have hidden and visible skills that would create a spectacular lineage. I thought about extending the offer to Fett, too, but he lacks the same tact that you possess.” 

Obi-Wan cleared his throat awkwardly. He raised his hands to remove Idas’ from his face but he intertwined their fingers to be friendly. Looking down at where they were touching, he got a glimpse of her breast on accident, so he apologized quietly, but he was also already so red in the face there was no more adding to it. “I, uh, appreciate the offer, but I’m not looking for that type of life.” 

Idas’ smile was wide, clearly enjoying how she flustered Obi-Wan. “A man after my own heart. Sad to see it, but I understand. I’m glad we had this talk, Dral. I’ll have the code to my comlink shared with you before you leave, in case you change your mind. Pip!” A door opened and closed and Pip approached on one of the paths behind Idas. Idas squeezed Obi-Wan’s hands before letting go, not bothering to attempt to cover herself in her revealing gown. “Please escort Dral back to his room, I do believe he got lost.” 

Pip tensed instead of moving. Their chest was pressing against Idas’ back, and she seemed to lean into the touch. “This meeting was unannounced. Are you hurt?” 

“No, Khor nor Fett would dare,” the Mikkian responded as she stared into Obi-Wan’s eyes. “He merely wandered and found me here. As I said, please escort him back to his room. And _don’t_ harass him.” 

Pip nodded sharply and followed orders. They broke away from Idas to lead Obi-Wan briskly but quietly back through winding halls to his room. Pip didn’t say anything to him when they parted ways but their looming size was enough of a threat to keep Obi-Wan in his room for the rest of the night. 

Jango was in the same position when Obi-Wan crawled onto his side of the bed. His mind was racing with thinking about Idas’ proposal and her ‘discoveries’, so it took a bit more to get to sleep, but when it finally came to him, this time he stayed asleep. 

In the morning, breakfast was delivered. A storm had rolled through some time after Obi-Wan fell asleep. It was still going, thundering and raining heavily. Jango and Obi-Wan were naturally early risers yet they didn’t wake from the storm and their room service arrived before either of them woke up. A tanned arm was thrown over Obi-Wan’s face when he opened his eyes but it was removed quickly as his bedmate woke up. Neither of them addressed that. But Obi-Wan was right about their bed situation, he was closer to Jango than he was than when he returned to bed (though it looked like Jango shifted in his sleep, too). 

They sat at the kitchenette island eating fancy little cakes that they had no right ever eating. The little cakes were filled with different types of cream. Jango seemed to favor the cakes containing a mild cream so Obi-Wan sacrificed having a stable stomach for the morning to eat the cakes containing the sweeter cream. Jango gave him a very critical look when the sweeter cakes started making his stomach hurt after his first one. 

While they were eating, Obi-Wan felt eyes boring into him, so he looked up and waited for his companion to speak. The other man, who was wearing his sleep shirt to be modest but had it unbuttoned, got the message. 

“Where did you go last night?” Obi-Wan blinked, Jango continued, “I woke up just after you left.” 

Obi-Wan shook his head. Mentally, he was bracing himself to eat another one of his cakes and also hoping Jango didn’t misinterpret the motion. “I woke up, went for a walk, and got lost. I found Idas in her personal garden and we had a little chat. Nothing else besides that, unless you also want to know that Pip brought me back here.” Jango looked doubtful, even a little skeptical, so he explained further, “I’m serious. Idas said she’s suspicious of me then turned around to imply that she trusted both of us and offered me to be her actual suitor, to which I declined.” 

It looked like Jango’s eyes were about to pop out of his head. A myriad of emotions crossed his face, making Obi-Wan feel guilty. He was unsure why, so he blamed it on being so blunt. 

“Why?” Jango demanded, voice tainted with anger. 

Obi-Wan shrugged. “She said I would create a good lineage. Does it matter?” 

“Yes, it does!” 

“What? No, it doesn’t!” Obi-Wan sighed and ran his hands through his hair to destress. However, he realized some of the emotions Jango was displaying. It made him smile as he reassessed an almost-fuming Jango Fett. “You’re jealous!” 

Jango reeled back like Obi-Wan threw one of his cakes and it landed right on his lap. “Your ego wished.” 

“I don’t have an ego that needs feeding, unlike you.” He pushed his plate forward, having never been interested in eating the cakes but ate enough to last him until midday. “You wished she approached you instead.” 

Jango’s emotions cooled down in record timing. His face became vacant, eyes looking glazed over in an instant. His entire exterior was unreadable and even in the Force his emotions read like a fog that was a tad bit alarming. It was enough to subdue Obi-Wan as if he just received a verbal punishment. 

It didn’t take Jango long to snap out of whatever spell he just had, something Obi-Wan refused to dwell on anymore. They put their plates into the sink and decided to do a bit of sparring (after they discovered they were locked in their room, and there was no way one of them was going to try to scale the outside of the palace while it stormed). They decided to spar in their sleeping clothes but without shirts, that way Jango could actually move around and it was fair. Though, Obi-Wan also believed it was more difficult to pin each other this way. 

Jango was stronger but Obi-Wan was faster, their specialties known by each other. Obi-Wan didn’t rely much on the Force during training, only using it to boost his reflexes—but every Force user does that subconsciously, he just filters it a bit so he’s not able to counter every attack. They traded light punches, usually guarded by forearms, and danced around each other gracefully. Too much contact resulted in the wrestling aspect that Obi-Wan usually lost, so he was always cautious to keep a distance from Jango. 

Obi-Wan faked a dodge to the side. Jango had anticipated the younger man to go either way and took the same step in the correct direction to bring them closer. Obi-Wan was left vulnerable and barely ducked away in time to avoid a hit that would have definitely taken him to the ground. 

He returned to his footing and danced around Jango. Jango had his own tells that were detectable only by close observation. Sometimes he had a weak pivot, an indication of a previous injury to one of his legs. Obi-Wan could never tell which leg, but he could tell when a pivot was coming. 

A fast dart in one direction, aimed like he was going to jab Jango in the side, caused an emphasized weak pivot. Jango moved preemptively, and Obi-Wan moved in the other direction to strike. Only, Jango’s weak pivots have been fake all this time. Somehow, the older man moved fast enough and got his leg up high enough to hook it around Obi-Wan’s neck with virtually no issues. Obi-Wan wasn’t completely stopped in his tracks. He was able to rotate his body out of the grip, but his speed was altered and Jango was able to pounce. Obi-Wan was tackled and effectively pinned to the floor, Jango’s mass and strength keeping him there. 

“Asshole,” Obi-Wan breathed. He recognized the move as one of his own. He didn’t think Jango was capable of replicating it so well. 

His face was pushed against the cool floor momentarily as Jango shifted with a grunt. 

“How do you think I felt when you first used it against me?” 

Obi-Wan briefly remembered the shock Jango was in when he was going one way and Obi-Wan completely altered his course with the exact move (minus the trickery of the leg pivots). The main difference was that Obi-Wan had used the move with pure agility and momentum, stopping Jango in one move. 

His recollection fizzled out when he started to realize his sweaty torso was stuck between the freezing floor and Jango’s equally sweaty skin. It was a very compromising position, one that could become even more so if he thought too deeply about it (or if he and Jango clashed even more relationship-wise and _pursued_ something, a ridiculous thought). He was beginning to feel uncomfortable and jerked his shoulders as best he could to get the message across. Jango understood and let the man free. 

“Impressive,” came Idas’ voice by the doors. Within a second, Jango was on his feet and Obi-Wan was in a just-as-capable crouching position. Pip was standing next to her. 

Jango puffed up like a small critter that thought it was bigger than it actually was when facing a predator. Except Jango actually had the ability to kill and, despite being shorter than Pip, Obi-Wan would put his credits on his companion. “What was the point of locking us in our room?” 

Idas was back to wearing her gold jewelry and gold makeup, with a form-fitting white and gold accented dress (not as flowy as the previous day’s attire). Her gaze drifted to Obi-Wan teasingly. “Because your partner went somewhere he wasn’t supposed to be. I didn’t want that happening again, or I didn’t want an important meeting to come to a halt because you two have no patience.” 

“And how long are you planning to keep me from _my_ ship?” 

Idas made an outward motion with her hands near her hips. “Well, that is why we are here. It looks like you two were making do, but I understand you’ll be wanting a change of clothes and your tools for tonight.” 

Obi-Wan glanced out one of the large windows. Still raining. It was lighter outside, but he had an inkling it would continue through the rest of the day. 

“If you are ready to go now, we can.” 

The men looked at each other. Shirtless, barefoot, and only wearing their smalls under black satin sleeping pants. They were the only guests in the palace, the only ones to judge them would be the guards and Idas herself. Obi-Wan sighed and stood to gather his armor, clothes, and boots. Jango made a noise of disagreement and followed suit, but put his helmet (to keep some anonymity? Because wearing it made him feel a bit safer? Still, Obi-Wan didn’t know how the man’s mind worked at times). 

Pip and Idas, including two other guards, walked them back to _Jaster’s Legacy_. They came across two other guards who watched them from behind their visors. In the hangar bay, they walked barefoot to their ship, something Obi-Wan noticed Idas grimaced at. 

Only Obi-Wan and Jango boarded. They went their separate ways, though each took a quick turn in the refresher to clean up. Jango took his turn first, so Obi-Wan gathered his clothes then it was his turn already. Afterward, he put his clothes then armor on and went to the ship’s armory to retrieve his knives and the prototype rifle. His falchion and blaster were already on a hip each. He returned to the entrance of _Jaster’s Legacy_ to meet back up with a fully-armored Jango. 

Jango’s _buy’ce_ wasn’t completely on, the bottom of the black T-shaped visor sitting on the bridge of his nose. Out of nowhere, he grabbed Obi-Wan by the arm tightly and turned in his general direction. With his other hand, he began to pull the rifle off Obi-Wan’s back. 

“You will be the one staying back to guard Idas. It’s going to continue raining, and I can’t risk you slipping and getting yourself killed all thanks to the weather.” 

Obi-Wan gaped. He wasn’t sure if Jango could even see his expression. “You don’t even know how I perform in the rain!” 

“That’s the point. I’m not risking it. Maerth hired his own help, and they will come to attack you when I’m not there. You stay to protect Idas, stay in the palace, you’ll stay dry, you’ll do your job.” 

“You can’t—” 

Jango lifted his helmet. His eyes were icy and commanding, enough to effectively shut up the younger man’s feeble argument. “I can and I am. I’m trusting you to keep her alive so we can get paid. When we’re done with this job, we can work on fighting in different weather. It’s my fault for not introducing climate training.” 

Obi-Wan sighed but he was thankful Jango was acknowledging his own little mistake. “Fine.” 

They made sure they had everything they needed, Jango returned Obi-Wan’s rifle to the armory, then disembarked. A few of the guards had wandered a bit, looking at the ship. Jango had his _buy’ce_ secured in place so he made a noise, modulated by the built-in speaker, and startled those guards. He snorted at his own antics. 

“I hope you two are set?” Idas ventured. 

“Because you won’t be returning until the job is finished,” Pip supplied. 

“We’re ready,” Jango grumbled in reply. Obi-Wan could visualize the Mandalorian’s nose wrinkling in contempt. 

Ignoring the growing tension between Jango and everyone (other than Obi-Wan), they headed back into the palace. 

The day passed uneventfully. It continued to rain and every single guard was on high alert, preparing for an attack at any moment and preparing for the night. The palace was on lockdown. Eyes were on the bounty hunters at all times, more obvious than when they went down into the city. If they didn’t think their hired help was going to kill Idas, then they were making sure the two didn’t wander off and leave after signing themselves on. Jango was back to being his peeved self, deciding that their morning activity would have to suffice as any sort of training for the rest of the day. Obi-Wan had a feeling the inactivity had to deal with not wanting to perform in front of the guards. 

For their midday meal, they were brought to a little lounge to eat with Idas while Pip stood by ominously. Jango lifted his helmet up for each bite, and Obi-Wan wore his visor but had the fabric in front of his mouth pulled down. It was a tense meal, probably the tensest moment yet. 

Then they were brought to the library. Obi-Wan gladly wandered and sat around to read books. Guards stood at every doorway to make sure they stayed in the room. Jango, seeming very unsure of their situation, was like a second, further, shadow to Obi-Wan. His hands were always on his hips and he was always in sight of Obi-Wan, even silently sitting next to the younger man at some points. The times when he was actually sitting still were when he seemed the most unsure. 

A guard came by, wearing a black sash and armor that was silver with gold accents, different from the other guards. They came by only to make sure the two had everything they needed. Given the secrecy and being herded like animals, they were as comfortable as they could be. 

Final meal came before they knew it. The guards escorted the mercenaries to the dining hall to eat with Idas again, Pip talking to a small group of other guards along the side of the room. Jango still ate with his _buy’ce_ on. It was as tense as the last meal but charged with a different type of energy. 

When they were done, they all went to the throne room. Pip led Idas to her room to get cleaned up, but she was back not long after, and in a flowy dress that wouldn’t be helpful if she had to run. Since the entire palace was on lockdown, a decent amount of guards were present and the plan was getting announced then. 

“Maerth has made his base at an old fort at the base of the mountain. Several clicks northwest of where whichever of you will be released. The base was made during a civil war many decades ago, but he has been positioned there for so long, it is unclear how up-to-date the defenses will be,” Idas explained. She was sitting on her throne, Pip standing directly at her side. “You will be provided with our best land transport. You aren’t getting paid extra for how many of his goons you kill. He has eyes on the palace and will send whoever he hired, most likely, when he sees one of you leave. Now, which of you is going to fetch him?” 

“Me,” Jango spoke up. Obi-Wan didn’t even plan on making the decision difficult. He didn’t have the energy to spare. 

Idas looked between her two guests. She was studying them, but it was unclear what she was thinking. “All right, I won’t comment on if I think that is the best decision or not.” Jango bristled. “Dral, that means you are the sole protector of my life. I’m sending my guards away. Only Pip is allowed to stay near.” 

“That is one thing I don’t understand, _Your Highness_. Why are you sending your guards away? Couldn’t they help Dral protect you? It’s their job to put their lives before yours,” Jango objected. 

“Pip is the only one obligated to protect me at all times. The others have their own reasons for protecting me without risking their lives.” 

To Obi-Wan, it was obvious Jango didn’t understand, but the man didn’t ask for clarification. 

All of the guards began clearing out. It left the throne room silent when it was just the four of them. 

“Pip, take Jango to his transport,” Idas ordered tersely. 

Pip began to leave but Jango stopped to talk to Obi-Wan. “You know what to do. Do your part, I do mine.” Obi-Wan nodded, and Pip and Jango were walking away. 

When they were out of the room, Idas spoke softly, “He’s worried. They both are worried. Pip doesn’t want me entrusting my life to you, and Jango just simply didn’t want to part ways with you.” 

Obi-Wan was turned away slightly, keeping most of the room in his view. He shook his head sharply. “We don’t have a good track record when we’re split up—not to startle you—but he understands the importance of a job. Neither of us are comfortable leaving our sixes exposed. But let’s not talk about what you think is between us, hmm?” 

Idas smirked innocently. 

Eventually, only Pip returned, and Obi-Wan began to steel himself. He pulled his neck gaiter up and followed Pip and Idas as they relocated to a lounge near the center of the palace that acted as a secondary throne room. 

Obi-Wan knelt in the center of the room and entered a light meditation. He began reaching out in the Force to feel as far as he could. Jango was long gone, but if Obi-Wan kept his senses extended, he would be able to feel when their attacker arrived. 

“What are you doing?” Idas wondered. 

It wasn’t a complete meditation, so he was able to respond. “Concentrating. Promise me you won’t tell Jango anything weird you may see me do tonight.” 

“All right…” 

Obi-Wan was able to identify some property markers in his meditation. He focused on those, feeling the rain patter around them. The markers were all that he concentrated on during his meditation. His head was clear, and he made sure to keep himself only half in to pull himself at any moment. 

He was unsure of how much time passed. Several times the rain almost drew his attention away, but as soon as he felt movement near a marker, he pulled himself from meditation and leaped to his feet. 

“Stay here,” Obi-Wan ordered. “Lock the door after me, if you have to. I’m going to intercept our visitor.” 

Confusion was written all over Idas’ face as she tried to work out how Obi-Wan knew when to move, but she nodded in agreement. Pip widened their stance and pulled a short rifle from the small of their back. It was enough of a sign they both were taking him seriously. Good. 

Obi-Wan let his legs carry him through the halls. His senses brought him to the throne room, where he witnessed Cad Bane letting himself in by carving through a window. He removed his falchion from his belt, holding it in one hand. 

The Duros saw him and scowled. “You.” 

“Bane,” Obi-Wan greeted. 

Cad Bane shook his head in disbelief. “I know who you are now. Jango’s little _pet_. You wear that fabric around your face to mark you as his.” 

The ex-Jedi snorted. “I’m just his student, and the fabric was a little gift to hide my face.” 

His opponent sneered. His hands were hovering at his hips, above his blasters. “I don’t care. I’m giving you this one opportunity to step aside and let me get my bounty. If not, I’ll just kill you. You can’t do anything with a sword against blasters.” 

Obi-Wan smirked. His falchion was no lightsaber but it was made from cortosis weave. It would deflect blaster bolts with no problems. 

“We’ll see about that.” 

Bane moved first. He pulled only one blaster out and started firing. Obi-Wan didn’t have any issues turning the blade to deflect each bolt with lightning-fast precision. The Duros bared his sharp, uneven teeth and pulled his other pistol out to add to the volley. Still, all of the bolts were deflected with no issues. 

The Force began seeping into Obi-Wan’s muscles as if he was a Jedi again. All the times he trained with Jango, he held himself back and did his best not to fight like what he used to be. He was allowing himself to fight like a Jedi now, feeling the Force as he was taught to for years. In a way, it felt good, but at the same time, he could feel the guilt building in his chest—whether from hiding away his past or from allowing himself such a close connection to the Force now. All at once, it was and wasn’t overwhelming. 

But the Force was hesitant around him. He was currently fighting like he used to with its assistance, but it didn’t feel the same. His negative emotions were pouring into it, reverberating back to him. The Force’s proximity was sticky against his mind, fueling his body, energy, and emotions. It wasn’t good but he had to ignore it for the time being and accept whatever the Force was willing to lend him. 

Obi-Wan closed the gap between them, effectively forcing the Duros back towards the exit. His competitor was expressing genuine fear. He didn’t expect Jango’s student, who was wielding a sword and deflecting blaster bolts like it was nothing, to act so aggressively. And Obi-Wan found himself a bit surprised by how aggressive he was acting. With the Force flowing through him like old times, it was hard not to embrace it. Plus, he had a score to settle that dealt with a particular past job on Chandrila. 

“You…” Bane trailed off. He jumped out of the way before the blade struck his neck. “What are you?!” 

Obi-Wan swung his weapon again, pulling his blaster out at the same time to put more pressure on Bane. It worked, Bane was skirting on the edge of the room, though no longer moving toward the exit. Once he was far enough away, he aimed his blasters upward and focused his fire there. And his aim was true. Obi-Wan dove out of the way and Bane was scrambling as a light came crashing down right where Obi-Wan was previously. However, he was on his feet immediately and gave chase to a fleeing Bane, holstering his blaster so it was out of the way. 

Speaking from experience, the palace wasn’t easy to navigate. Bane wasn’t faster than Obi-Wan, but the ex-Jedi humored him by letting him think he was. They weren’t heading toward anywhere specific, but they had to keep it that way until Jango returned or until Obi-Wan ended it. 

Bane looked over his shoulder and threw something at Obi-Wan’s feet. Obi-Wan didn’t bother looking at it, swinging his falchion to swat the object away. He wasn’t stupid. A bolas was a smart thing to throw during a chase, but Obi-Wan was a bit too alert for them to be used against him in this situation. 

They ended up in the dining hall when Bane turned around to make another stand. He put his blasters away and decided to get close to challenge Obi-Wan. At first, it didn’t look like he was going to get his way, again, but then he landed his first hit on Obi-Wan and a current of shock went through the ex-Jedi’s entire body. Obi-Wan was forced to take a step back after that poke, and Bane approached as if he was the one in control now (and while it looked like it, Obi-Wan was confident he was the one in control). 

They walked with each other like they were dancing. They fought on the cleared-off table, trying to push each other off to get the ultimate upper-hand. Bane was fighting more ferociously but Obi-Wan was in control of himself and had the aid of the Force to guide his every move. He was trading his own punches, gripping his sword backward so he could throw punches with both hands and lash out with it at the same time. Bane was still trying to shock him with every hit—and was effectively landing more and more hits—so he was becoming increasingly irritated. 

He decided to step off the table first. Bane saw it as an opportunity before it even happened. Bane lashed out, something shiny in his hand, but was only able to graze the left side of Obi-Wan’s face above his visor. It stung, but he was able to ignore it. 

Bane went in the opposite direction, Obi-Wan chased after him. They didn’t get far when the Duros aimed his hand at his attacker and a cone of fire erupted from his gauntlet. That finally had Obi-Wan skidding to a stop. But it’s not like it was a complete game-changer. Bane was moving again when the fire let up, speed boosted by the little rockets attached to his boots, but Obi-Wan was able to use the Force to catch up. 

They were back in the throne room and Bane was noticeably frustrated in the Force. Since he had a slight lead, he approached the broken light fixture and climbed onto it. Obi-Wan was lured close, ready to end their fight at any time. He just needed the right moment to. His forehead was sweating, he wasn’t even overly warm, he had to be extra careful about slipperiness. 

Obi-Wan moved to strike. Bane had another thing in his hand, something also shiny but suspiciously the same color as the light fixture, and larger than the previous object. Obi-Wan raised his falchion to block one of Bane’s hands, blind to one side while he tried to position himself to be less vulnerable since Bane had the advantage of height. 

Bane struck the side of Obi-Wan’s visor near his left eye, exactly where one of the device’s clasps for the front and back clipped together was. The visor sparked and let out a warning beep. Obi-Wan flinched as the screen in front of his eyes flickered. Bane took that opportunity to strike again. He was essentially also bashing the side of Obi-Wan’s head in, and he must have noticed how beating the visor was rattling the wearer just the same. One more hit to the device and the clasps broke apart. 

An enraged scream ripped itself from Obi-Wan’s throat as he swung his falchion wildly. He felt the blade catch on something, but his eyes were unfocused, especially his left eye, which began to turn especially blurry and disrupt his sight as red tainted the outside of his view. 

No matter, the Force will assist him with his vision… 

Bane made a weak grunt and there was the sound of his boots hitting the tiles. “Sounds like Jango reached Maerth. My job is done. I can’t get paid, pest, I’ll leave with no issues.” 

Obi-Wan lurched toward the Duros. “Not a chance! You stole our job on Chandrila, I’m getting payback!” His anger had been building, and now he was acknowledging it. The source of his anger was not too far away. He could eliminate it, making future jobs easier. Knock out a source of competition in the bounty hunting world. 

The other bounty hunter flew into the air and out the window. With no one around, Obi-Wan was able to safely boost his athletic skills and followed the Duros outside and onto the roof. 

Bane looked very surprised to see he was still being pursued, but his shock was replaced with determination as he pulled out his blasters and started firing again. Obi-Wan was able to use his falchion to protect himself, something Bane should have seen coming. 

It was much easier to run from one length of the castle to the other on the roof, though probably easier if it wasn’t raining. Their feet banged on the roof and their boots slipped with every step. Bane may have said he was leaving, but they were most likely approaching Idas’ location. If he wanted to, he could try to break in through one of the skylights and kill her just for the satisfaction of it. 

Obi-Wan _had_ to end this. He didn’t ever want to see Cad Bane’s blue face again. 

He launched himself forward to grab the Duros’ legs. Bane hit the roof hard and they went rolling down a side of the decking. To their luck, they stopped on a flat part, presumably where guards stand. Obi-Wan pulled himself onto his adversary and did his best to smash the other’s face in as if it were a punching bag. It was venting his anger well but didn’t last long. He received a powerful shock to the gut that caused him to freeze up long enough for Bane to escape and flee again. 

It took a tremendous effort to pull himself to his feet, but he did, and was bolting after Bane. 

They were nearing the edge of the palace roof, the closest point to the mountains and valley below. Obi-Wan was almost caught up, but Bane was already at the edge. The Duros leaped off the roof and was extending his distance with the thrusters. But Obi-Wan was a Jedi. His athletics and abilities were boosted by the Force. And, although the ground was an intimidating distance below, he jumped because he knew he would be able to use the Force lessen the damage he may receive. 

The ground was rushing up to greet him fast, he sheathed his falchion to minimize any damages; but the sound of a jetpack grew close fast, and a silver-plated Mandalorian caught him out of the sky, gripping him in an almost-too-tight hug. All the fight left him in an instance. The Force stopped moving through his muscles, draining out of him at the same time his energy decided he used it all up. It felt like it was leaving his body roughly, leaving behind a path of destruction. The loss of feeling that came with the Force leaving like that made him aware of his soaked clothes and the stinging on his forehead. He felt like he did on Naboo; tired, lifeless, and not right. 

With practiced ease, Jango delivered them to the exit he used for leaving. A guard was standing at the open doorway with a cuffed ashy-blue Mikkian next to them. When they were on solid ground, Jango released his companion, but Obi-Wan dropped to his knees, body numb in a frightening way. Jango crouched next to him. 

“What are you, stupid?” the _Mand’alor_ demanded. He sounded distressed, but Obi-Wan didn’t know why. 

Obi-Wan looked at him with a blank expression, feeling bare now that his entire face was on display. He was cold, too, his adrenaline wearing off so he could feel the rain inviting the air to invade his soaked clothes and seep into his bones. 

“You’re covered in blood, Dral!” The Mandalorian’s hands shot out to grab his student’s upper arms to shake the man. “Are you suicidal, too? Jumping off the roof like that, you probably wouldn’t’ve survived! Fighting in the rain was one thing, risking hypothermia if the temperature keeps dropping, but it looks like you would’ve died from shock if jumping or the cold didn’t claim you first!” 

“Sorry,” Obi-Wan said. He dipped his head and realized the collar of his grey shirt was soaked with blood. The rain was probably just making it worse than it appeared. 

Jango helped him to his feet, but realizing how slow they would be moving (because Obi-Wan’s legs were refusing to work), he placed one arm at the younger man’s shoulders and used the other to catch the back of his knees and scooped him up effortlessly. Obi-Wan would be embarrassed if he didn’t feel so drained at the moment; like the Force didn’t just rip out his sense of self on its way out. 

The guard standing next to the Mikkian escorted them and the prisoner through the halls until they were at the secondary throne room. Obi-Wan became aware of his shivering as Jango carried him through the too-bright halls. He found himself trying to shrivel into a little ball but didn’t want to appear weak in front of Idas and Pip (and the other guard and Maerth for that matter), so he began pushing at Jango’s chest and requested to be let down. 

“Screw your dignity,” Jango growled in reply, though his worry was evident in his voice. “You’re seeing the medical droid as soon as this meeting is over.” 

Idas was sitting on the decorated chair when they arrived. Pip was at her side and holding that same rifle. Her eyes widened when the four entered the room. First, she was looking at Maerth, then Jango and Obi-Wan, but her eyes then returned to Maerth. 

“I…” she trailed off. “Maerth.” 

“Idas.” 

In the bright room, Obi-Wan could get a better look at Maerth. He wasn’t the same teal as Idas, his skin more dark cobalt, but his tendrils all were darker at the ends like his sister’s. Though, it looked like he might have been missing some of his tendrils. His eyes were the same gold, however, and the shape of his face was exactly like hers, too. His voice wasn’t as elegant as his sister’s but his lilt was the same, detectable even through his one word. He stood in dark, soaked clothes, head held high defiantly and eyes staring forward. 

“Are you two all right?” Idas ventured. Her features took on a look of surprise. “Dral, you’re covered in blood!” She started to push herself up from the chair, triggering Pip to jolt and move to stand half in front of her. “You need to see a medic!” 

“I’m going to take him to see my ship’s medical droid as soon as this meeting is over,” Jango explained as he turned his body so Obi-Wan’s feet were towards Idas. A half-hearted stance to guard Obi-Wan’s exposed head. 

Idas scoffed. “This ‘meeting’ can wait until tomorrow. Go take him now. We will deal with Maerth tonight, and I will see to retrieving your credits.” 

Jango wasted no time getting moving. As soon as Idas was done talking, he was walking out of the room and through the halls as if he knew where to go. Maybe he did, maybe he didn’t, but Obi-Wan closed his eyes for just a moment and next thing he knew they were approaching _Jaster’s Legacy_. 

“Are you listening?” Jango growled. “I just asked you where your visor is.” 

Obi-Wan’s mouth was dry. He had to summon the spit to wet his mouth and force his brain to supply him with the answer. “Throne room.” 

Jango boarded the ship and went to the medical bay. He activated the medical droid and set Obi-Wan on the first bed. 

“I’m _not_ spending the rest of the night in the bacta tank,” Obi-Wan grumbled. 

Jango took a step out of the way and removed his _buy’ce_. “You’ll do what the droid says. I wouldn’t be surprised if you’re required to because of brain damage.” 

“Bacta injections…” 

The medical droid examined Obi-Wan to the best of its ability (meaning Obi-Wan was a bit too tired to do certain things and wasn’t giving the clearest answers and the droid had to work around that while trying to provide the best diagnosis). In the end, after reviewing Obi-Wan’s state of mind and condition, it ruled the bacta tank. If not for a full day, then it recommended at least the night so the gash on his head could scab over and his head trauma would be soothed. 

Obi-Wan wanted to protest but he was too tired to do so. 

The traditional white shorts were provided. Jango helped Obi-Wan out of his armor but turned to give the man privacy while he changed into the shorts. It took a surprising amount of effort to peel his soaked layers off. He was shaking afterward (now not only just from the cold), using the bed to support all of his weight. When Jango turned around again, he looked at Obi-Wan with pity. Obi-Wan may have been ashamed any day, and he partially was, but he felt himself become angry because he had to decipher that emotion himself and without aid from the Force. 

He didn’t bother trying to cover his thin, exposed frame. All of his scars and litheness were on display, including his ribs, which all could almost be counted. Jango didn’t bother trying to hide the fact that his eyes roamed the bare pale skin. He was still displaying his look of pity but now a darker form. When he finally looked up and met Obi-Wan’s tired eyes, he moved to assist the man into the filling bacta tank. A tank that wasn’t as high-end as you could find in the best medical centers but was no field tank. 

Once Obi-Wan was secured properly, the medical droid administered the sedatives. Obi-Wan became fearful when they weren’t kicking in right away. He was a Jedi and knew how to use the Force, after all, he could refuse the injection whether he meant to or not (though, the Force was terrifyingly silent and unresponsive, like it wasn’t even there). But, after a little bit more was added, he found that he couldn’t fight the sedatives and slipped into a blissful sleep. 

Obi-Wan woke up and the first things he noticed were the dim lights and the scent of pineapples. He wanted to choke. One of the exact reasons as to why he didn’t want to go into the bacta tank was because he didn’t want to taste pineapples for several days. He smacked his lips loudly and forced his eyes open. 

He was laying on the same medical bed the medical droid examined him on. Except there was a thick blanket pulled up over his chest and a pillow under his head. And to his side sat Jango, dressed in the black base layer he wore underneath his blue flight suit. His face was scrunched up mischievously when blue eyes focused on him. 

“How are you feeling, sunshine?” Jango teased. 

“As right as rain,” Obi-Wan responded as he stretched, hearing and feeling several joints pop. “Except for the residual taste of bacta.” 

Jango shrugged. “It’s what you get for being reckless.” 

“The only thing that I did that’s considered reckless, to you, was jumping off the roof, and I know I would have made it.” 

The _Manda’lor_ ’s face turned dark. The good spiritedness was gone and left seriousness in its wake. He shifted in his seat and cleared his throat. “I don’t believe you for a second and don’t want to think about the result if you had jumped.” 

Obi-Wan frowned and raised his hand to touch the wound on his head. It was mostly healed over. Just a bit more bacta and it hopefully won’t leave a scar. 

“How easy was it to get Maerth?” 

“Easy. The kid was a poor shot and his goons were just as bad or too big of cowards to face me. He would’ve had a chance of surviving if he hired Bane to protect him instead of sending him off to kill his sister.” 

“Well… good job.” 

Jango huffed as a laugh and bowed his head. He raised his gaze to fix Obi-Wan with a withering smirk. “Good job yourself, I suppose. If I knew it would be Bane coming to attack, I would have let you retrieve Maerth instead. But you held up, so it looks like you're putting your training to good use.” 

“Except the jumping off buildings part?” 

“Yeah, exactly.” 

It looked like Jango was enjoying himself quite a bit. The smile on his face was true and he looked at ease. A resounding warmth bloomed in Obi-Wan’s chest and he couldn’t help echoing Jango’s smile. Though, he blamed it on his renewed connection with the Force. Jango rarely liked to express himself and any relief or relaxation he was showing now wouldn’t be the same in a few hours. Later, Jango will go back to being his cold self and will probably try to bite Obi-Wan’s head off for anything he may say. 

Jango eventually got up and put a stack of folded clothes on the bed. Obi-Wan’s clothes, cleaned, from their first day on Kreeling. His armor was also sitting along the wall, looking shinier than what he kept it. Obi-Wan looked between his possessions, noticing how his neck gaiter and visor weren’t anywhere to be seen. 

“Where are…?” 

“Your visor needs major repairs and your mask is with your other blood-stained clothes,” Jango answered. “You don’t have to accompany me retrieving the credits if you aren’t comfortable showing your face.” 

“No, I will…” Obi-Wan was still staring at his stack of clothes but accidentally let his eyes wander. He found his gaze pulled to observe Jango’s black suit and felt his face start to heat up. Jango’s undermost suit didn’t leave much up to the imagination, with how snugly it hugged his frame. Obi-Wan was sure it did its purpose, though. He quickly looked away pointedly, making Jango snort as he turned to leave. 

Getting up and dressing was much easier than before he went into the bacta tank. He was thankful his skin wasn’t sticky from the bacta but he had a distant feeling Jango or the medical droid hosed him off while he was still sedated. Nevertheless, it was appreciative so he wasn’t itching to get out of his skin as soon as he woke. 

Once he was dressed (and he was positive Jango polished his matte grey armor), he left the medbay. His feet brought him to their cabins. Jango’s door was open. Peeking inside revealed that he had his blue flight suit on and was watching Obi-Wan out of the corner of his eye as he was in the process of securing the plates of _beskar_ in place. 

“Thanks for taking care of my armor,” Obi-Wan spoke softly. 

Jango didn’t look up from putting his boots on. “It looked like you were only going to take care of it when it got damaged. Which is, by the way, not good practice.” 

“It’s just a plastoid-alloy, it’s not equal to _beskar_ , it doesn’t need the same treatment.” Obi-Wan wasn’t trying to outright argue, but it was just standard armor. It wasn’t in any way special, you could buy it on pretty much any planet in the Core Worlds. 

“If you ever want to wear _beskar_ , treating your current armor the way you are now isn’t going to help your chances in the future.” 

“I’m not _Mando_ , I can’t wear _beskar_.” 

Jango paused. His face, expression open and calm, closed off and became hard. His eyes, sharp, concentrated on Obi-Wan as if he just spouted a bunch of lies like they were facts. With a monotone voice, he said, “Not with that attitude, you’re not.” 

Before Obi-Wan could sputter out an argument Jango was ordering him to arm himself with at least his falchion and blaster and wait at the exit. Obi-Wan, confused by Jango’s reaction, followed his orders. Jango joined him a few minutes later and they disembarked. 

No one was outside the ship to escort them inside. Obi-Wan saw it as a perfect opportunity to get an explanation out of Jango about his idea of Obi-Wan wearing _beskar’gam_. Jango refused to answer any of his questions but he, being the smart man he pretended he was not, spoke just before they entered, knowing Obi-Wan wouldn’t persist his questioning with others around. 

“Well have you ever thought about becoming one?” 

Obi-Wan’s feet stopped him. Becoming a Mandalorian? No. Not only was he not crazy, but he lived his life as a Jedi—or swordsman if you were to ask Jango or Roz—and never once got the urge to become a Mandalorian. Mandalorians and Jedi do not have good relationships or a good history together. Not only that, but Jango has only known him for a few months. Obi-Wan knew Jango trusted him, but he didn’t have a clue what it even took to be a Mandalorian except for speaking the language. Besides, a Mandalorian with a certain affiliation—whether that be True or New—would probably tell you different requirements. 

Still not over his shock, Obi-Wan got his feet moving and caught up with Jango. As they started passing guards, he didn’t realize how much he would miss his face coverings. His face was free to view, and while his expression was neutral, it made him feel bare. At least behind his visor and neck gaiter, he was able to express his feelings without keeping it all internal and getting judged. 

They met Idas in the throne room. Guards were present, including Pip, and their ruler looked much more joyous than the first time they saw her in the same seat. Her face seemed to light up even more when she noticed her guests. 

“Dral, I’m glad to see you are looking so much better!” She stood but didn’t move too far from her seat. Probably because the dress she was wearing was the most flowing of the ones she has worn so far in their presence. “You were very pale, I was worried.” 

“I have taken worse damage, but I thank you for your concern,” Obi-Wan replied politely. “And Maerth?” 

“He is doing well. The procedure was performed last night. He is back to being his same old self where he isn’t trying to kill everyone and is quiet, charming, and much more intelligent than he likes to lead on. I would offer for you two to meet him when he wakes but I presume you are here for your payment so you can leave?” 

“That would be correct,” Jango answered. 

The Mikkian nodded to Pip. “Jango, if you would please follow Pip to the next room. Your payment is there.” 

Jango was obvious with the way he looked between Idas and Obi-Wan but he complied. 

Idas waited for the Mandalorian to be out of the room before she approached Obi-Wan and spoke again. “I wanted to greet you when you were waking but Jango didn’t allow me on the ship. Very territorial, that one…” 

“Oh, yes, he can be but as long as he is given his privacy then he will give the same amount in return.” 

The Mikkian smiled as she put a hand on Obi-Wan’s armored chest. “I see… He is lucky to have such an understanding pupil. And you know, my offer still stands. I’ll probably only have a couple of years before my advisors start to push Maerth and me to find our own partners so there will be heirs to the throne.” With her other hand, she grabbed one of Obi-Wan’s hands to slip him a little card. “A code to my personal comlink, should you ever change your mind.” 

Obi-Wan kept his face neutral and did his best to ignore the insinuation to prevent his cheeks from heating up. It worked for the most part. 

Idas began to return to her throne a second before Jango and Pip reappeared. There was tension in the air between him and Pip and Obi-Wan realized Jango probably pulled weapons on anyone who got too close to boarding _Jaster’s Legacy_. Knowing the man, that’s probably what he did, a reasonable explanation for the tension between them and how he kept Idas off the ship. 

“Where to next?” Obi-Wan asked after they said their goodbyes and were returning to the ship. 

“Coruscant,” Jango answered gruffly. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> With the use of bacta, a scar won't form. In the early chapters of this fic, I contradict myself by saying Obi received a scar from Maul's lightsaber, despite bacta patches getting put on it afterward. I would like to state that, in my opinion, a wound caused by a lightsaber wouldn't be so easy to get rid of. While it's cauterized, to me, that's part of the healing process, and the wound would be so harsh and final it already caused enough damage to the cells. Bacta would only soothe pain and blend/smooth areas where the cauterization may scab. I hope that makes sense! I'm basing this on eu lore. 
> 
> Very small chance the next chapter could be delayed. As I'm typing this, I'm in the midst of writing two research papers and painting a (rather simple) piece for an oral presentation that I also need to prepare. I say very small because the next few chapters are written but have to get cleaned up so they are in a state to be posted. If not the next three or so chapters, the ones following those could be the ones affected (but this would be if I have to take a break from writing completely, and my posting schedule should allow me enough time to generate content between updates). This is also a warning that I might be very late responding to any comments. c:


	17. Chapter 17

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Posting this now because I have my remaining assignments due soon. My replies might be late again. I was very glad I posted the previous chapter early because wow the stress of that week... 
> 
> I should be returning to the regular schedule soon (if not more often once the semester is over). Is Wednesday a good day for receiving chapters? I usually prepare the chapters for posting on Saturdays/Sundays. I won't ever wait until a Friday to post (unless I'm super behind). I see Wednesday as a good middle ground but sometimes I get itchy fingers to post early. Feel free to give feedback, or don't! I know it's a preference that's ultimately up to me but if a lot of fics update on Sundays/Mondays then I don't want to add to a possibly overwhelming reading list. 
> 
> Hope you enjoy!

_Sickly yellow eyes stared in his direction, staring through him and staring into his soul all at once. The Sith’s lips curled back to show a snarl._

_The red and black Zabrak revealed his name. Maul. He revealed his name in a fit of rage when Obi-Wan was refusing to cooperate and bend under the Sith’s will. It’s not like he was punished for ignoring the Sith. The worst things to happen were his sleepless nights and an occasional headache that persisted through the first morning hours. Though, Maul was getting angrier and angrier with each visit to Obi-Wan’s dreams._

_The dead can affect the living, but not Sith. Maul must have been trained well to be able to pester Obi-Wan so much._

_Tonight’s torments were dodging the Darksaber, putting up with a persistent humming of an unseeable lightsaber in the background, and blocking out Maul’s threats to Jango and Roz. The only new part was the other lightsaber’s humming, but humming was something Obi-Wan has had to endure before in other dreams._

_Obi-Wan jumped over the messy sweep of the Darksaber. He rolled out of the way when it was swung even more wildly. Maul had been so precise with his double-bladed lightsaber, and everyone was trained with the knowledge of how to wield one ‘saber, so his current form didn’t make any sense. Nevertheless, Obi-Wan’s delicate dodging was spurring Maul’s anger more and more._

_Finally, he seemed to give in. He dropped the Darksaber to the ground. For whatever reason Obi-Wan was compelled to dart after it but realized his mistake too late. His hand touched the hilt and the Sith’s hands tangled into his caramel hair and jerked up. Obi-Wan stared into the gold-rimmed eyes. Maul snarled and dug his fingers into the man’s scalp and growled something, but roaring in Obi-Wan’s mind, ears, and throat overtook all of his senses._

_He was no longer in his dreamscape. He was on Ryloth, shorter by a few feet, and dressed in a tunic. A short Padawan braid whipped behind him in the wind. His legs were too short, making traversing the terrain difficult._

_He just about fell over the edge of a cliff path but a hand shot out to grab his wrist and pull him back. Looking at the person, Kencha, filled his little heart with some hope._

_They continued on. Obi-Wan, the older Obi-Wan, the Obi-Wan no longer a Padawan, was screaming on the inside. He was beating against the walls of his mind, begging to be let out. His Padawan self continued like he didn’t have a care in the world. Ignoring the bad feeling in the Force Kencha ordered him to ignore._

_Everything fizzled and Obi-Wan found himself staring into the steely face of Kencha. Dirt and even a bit of blood were smeared on his face. His hair, always neatly tied back out of his face, was disarranged. No… no. Kencha never looked like that. He only looked like that when—_

_“Run and don’t look back.”_

_And he did._

_His short legs carried him through the sand. Then he stopped. Somewhere. Well, Ryloth, but somewhere on Ryloth. Somewhere without his Master. Internally, Obi-Wan was still trying to escape. It felt like the walls were closing in on him. He was losing control of his own mind and memories. He knew what was to happen next._

_Padawan Obi-Wan Kenobi turned back around towards where his Master was and began running. His bond was leading him to the correct location, and he activated his lightsaber when he got closer. Bodies he didn’t recognize were swarming Kencha, and soon him when he was getting overwhelmed. He watched as Kencha was disarmed, and screamed at the top of his lungs when he watched the figures strike the back of Kencha’s head then delivered one precise bullet. It would have been silent if Obi-Wan wasn’t still screaming. He barely heard it when the figures were talking about slavery._

_But things turned blurry in Obi-Wan’s mind, either from Maul or from fighting against Maul. He could feel the phantom shocks and wounds from his time on Ryloth. The shackles on his wrists and ankles, the hollow feeling of being disconnected from the Force. The collar on his neck was the worst, constantly too tight, used to keep him perfectly still, and utilized a function to effortlessly inject spices and other drugs into his system to keep him separated from the Force (when they didn’t want to use specialized cuffs)._

_His body and throat felt numb. His eyes focused on the yellow ones of Maul and he just. Kept. Screaming. He couldn’t move his body. He was beginning to see himself on Ryloth again, older this time._ A hand touched his ankle. 

“Hey, hey…” It wasn’t Maul. 

Obi-Wan inhaled as big of a breath as he could and sat up. His throat was just as raw and his cheeks felt wet with tears. His feeble amount of blankets—feeble compared to the amount he slept with on Outland—were snuggled around him. And sitting at the foot of his bed was Jango, wearing his sleep clothes. 

His voice was soft and he was slowly reaching out to Obi-Wan like the younger man was a rabid, cornered animal. Obi-Wan knew he was staring back like he was seeing a ghost but he couldn’t get a hold of himself. 

“Dral…” Jango drew out. Obi-Wan stared and pulled the blankets around him tighter, realizing he was shaking. It was cold, that was why… 

“You were screaming. I came to check on you. You’re still alive, so that’s a good thing.” 

Obi-Wan had to look away. He could feel a wave of tears threatening to overtake him. All because Jango was suddenly there after a nightmare? Just because he was trying to comfort his companion, trying to be more helpful than Qui-Gon ever tried to be? 

“Do you want to talk about it…?” 

He shook his head. 

Jango sighed. The bed shifted slightly and there was a bit of movement in the ex-Jedi’s peripheral. Jango had moved closer and Obi-Wan's head was forcefully tilted one way until he was on his side and his head was on Jango’s lap. Fingers carefully massaged his scalp and started playing with his hair. 

“Jango…” he groaned and then was hushed. 

“I don’t want to hear it. Jaster did this for me when I refused to confide in him about my own ordeal of losing my family. Roz didn’t do the exact same thing but she was always near when we found each other.” 

Jango’s ordeal happened when he was a child, it made sense that Jaster tried to comfort him. Obi-Wan’s ordeal happened years ago, it was inexcusable that he was having nightmares almost as bad. But then again, he never saw a Soul Healer and they sent him off to the AgriCorps because Qui-Gon rejected him. Why deal with a problematic Padawan when you can just send them off for someone else to deal with? Still, it was no excuse. 

He had no control over himself and his emotions anymore. Tears slipped out of his eyes and he turned to hide his face in the fabric of Jango’s sleeping pants. He didn’t want to deal with any of this and he couldn’t confide in Jango because he would react horribly to being told his student was a Jedi. 

“And if you don’t want to talk, I’m sitting here to be a _comforting_ presence so you don’t go crazy by stewing in your own head.” 

That got Obi-Wan to huff, and Jango clearly took pride in that. 

“But… talking about it would probably make you feel better.” 

“I don’t want to talk about it,” Obi-Wan mumbled. 

“Well, you should. If not all of it, just some of it.” 

Obi-Wan turned to rest his cheek against Jango’s leg. Immediately skilled fingers skimmed through his hair until they were near his temple and started a braid. It was interesting to feel him actually do it, and even more interesting that he was doing without being inebriated. It was a silent yet blatant acknowledgment that he was the one to braid Obi-Wan’s hair the first night of the Festival of Life on Outland whether he remembered it or not. 

“Where do I start?” Obi-Wan sighed. 

“It requires a lead-up?” 

“If you want to understand it.” 

Obi-Wan didn’t realize how much he startled Jango, but he supposed screaming his lungs raw in his sleep would be unsettling to anyone. Jango’s anxiety and worry were coiled tightly in him but it wasn’t entirely undetectable with the Force. Almost unnoticeable, sure, because he was good at hiding it, but it was there and Obi-Wan felt guilty for causing it. 

“I had two teachers on Zeffo… The first is the one I let die in vain. We only knew each other for about a year but we were close.” His bottom lip trembled but he continued, “When it came time for his death, we were on a different planet searching for a bounty hunter. Something happened; we got attacked, and he told me to leave. I left and then returned for him. I watched him die, and I was captured. No one was sent to rescue me. I freed myself, returned to Zeffo, then got sent out on a mission I was not supposed to return from because no one wanted to resume my training. My second teacher, who actually rejected me before I was claimed by my first teacher, ran into me on that planet and he claimed me then. 

“I dreamt I was back with my first teacher and it was the day of his death. I had to watch him be killed and I could feel the pain I would later be put through. It was my biggest failure, aside from getting kicked out of the swordsmen, and the torture I endured during my forced stay on that planet didn’t make up for what I put my first Master through during his final moments.” 

Jango’s hands slowed down but he didn’t completely stop. He hummed, a sound that reverberated in his chest. It comforted Obi-Wan but at the same time made him feel briefly homesick. “But his death isn’t your fault, and I would hardly consider getting kicked from your ‘society’ because of your genetics a failure. You received the short end of the stick of life by being unfortunate enough to be born into a group of people who like to select genetics. And your hair color isn’t bad. It suits you.” 

Right, Jango remembered Obi-Wan saying he was removed from his society of swordsmen because of his attitude and hair color. 

“Thanks…” 

“Don’t think too hard on yourself. You know I regret my own mistakes. I’ve let too many True Mandalorians die. I recite their names every night, but that won’t bring them back. Stepping up to serve them won’t bring Jaster back, either. Some of us have to learn the hard way that in order to get moving in the right direction, it usually requires us to take a step or two in a different direction.” 

Oddly insightful, coming from Jango. Obi-Wan didn’t take him as one to think that deeply when he also was being hypocritical. Though some people were like that, he supposed. They say one thing in an augment then turn around and do that very thing… 

They were silent. Obi-Wan felt his eyes drooping as Jango continued to braid. He was back to normal speed, and not yanking like he had a vendetta against Obi-Wan’s hair. The braid was getting finished, ending up being the width and overall size of a Padawan braid, and another was getting made right next to that. Once the second one was done, a third was also getting crafted. 

Obi-Wan was still the entire time, breathing deeply and enjoying the warmth of the blankets around him. He also didn’t expect to accept Jango’s thigh as a pillow, but here he was enjoying it. That, and the feeling that his chest ready to burst from affection wasn’t overwhelming and driving him to flee. It should have. His fear of getting too close to Jango was in the back of his mind and he was unable to bring it to the front. Just that should have made him scared but he found himself unable to summon the fear. That should have made him even more scared… 

But Jango was petting his head now that three braids were completed. He was in his own head and emanating contentment and fondness into the Force. That, too, should have been driving Obi-Wan away. Kriff, what was wrong with him? 

Maybe he dozed for a bit because the next thing he knew, his vision was engulfed in black but he was still surrounded by warmth and comfort. Then, Jango moved to get up, rousing Obi-Wan. Jango looked at him apologetically and explained, “We should be to Coruscant in an hour. First meal will be ready shortly.” 

Obi-Wan was left alone for the first time since waking. A chill ran up his spine and coaxed him out of bed. He threw on his normal attire and clipped the armor he wore on his limbs in place (though he was beginning to wear less, only choosing his vambraces and shoulder pauldrons on his arms and cuisses and greaves on his legs, and his codpiece), secured his belt (where his blaster pistol and falchion now attached to him), and grabbed his cuirass to take with him. His neck gaiter from Jango was still getting cleaned, along with his compromised shirt, to get the blood out of it. Before joining Jango, he stopped by the refresher to brush his teeth, comb his hair, and secure the little braids so he could wear them for the rest of the day. They were partly covered by his hair but still very visible. 

Jango was in the lounge, setting filled bowls on the table. He was dressed in his jumpsuit and only the _beskar_ on his legs. He raised an eyebrow when he looked at Obi-Wan, focusing specifically on the side of his head. 

“You’re not taking them out?” he asked, voice sounding like he didn’t care, almost incredulous, but Obi-Wan recognized delight in the Force. 

“No. They look nice,” Obi-Wan answered. He sat down and picked up the spoon to start eating the soggy grains. Jango sat in front of his own bowl and also started eating. 

After their quiet meal, Obi-Wan secured his cuirass in place on his way to the cockpit to check their position. He sat in his seat to see it wasn’t long until they would arrive, and _Jaster’s Legacy_ seemed to move faster than the navigation system estimates (since the screen says they’ll arrive in about five hours and Jango confidently said they’d arrive in an hour). If they’re going to Coruscant, and they get parts for _Jaster’s Legacy_ there, then maybe Jango should look into making sure the navigation systems are accurate. Who knows how long it has been like this. 

Jango joined him in the cockpit not long later. He was securing the black flak vest in place that his torso _beskar_ attached to as he sat in the pilot’s seat and started flipping and turning dials. He was already wearing his vambraces but his helmet wasn’t in sight. 

“You know the navigation system is very inaccurate?” Obi-Wan asked. 

“Is it?” Jango raised an eyebrow at him. He took his glove off to put his thumb on a little sensor at the bottom of the screen. The numbers on the screen changed to show the correct time. “It’s a trick in case someone who shouldn’t be here is snooping.” 

Another safety measure. It wasn’t very necessary… 

They buckled in before they left hyperspace. Jango turned off autopiloting and took control. Once that happened, he flew them to Coruscant and found them a hangar not far from the entrance to the undercity. He never said what they were doing on Coruscant, only implying to get supplies to repair Obi-Wan’s visor. Authentic replacement parts for his visor weren’t found in the undercity, however. 

When they landed, Jango put on his _buy’ce_ and went to retrieve Obi-Wan’s cleaned neck gaiter. Obi-Wan put it on immediately. It would be the only thing hiding part of his identity. Now the lightsaber scar over his eye; the wound from Cad Bane, a thin white line on the left side of his forehead that went over his temple and into his scalp; and the yellow bruise also from Bane, could be seen. 

Jango led the way off the ship and locked it up behind them. He found them transport down to the entrance to the undercity and they were let in with no issues. Obi-Wan wished they would have gone to get parts for his visor first but he didn’t know how long it would take to fix it, so he probably wouldn’t even be able to wear it as soon as they got the parts. 

Being back on Coruscant was as odd as it was the last time. The planet he once considered home was no longer that, and he wasn’t viewing it from the same angle as he used to. With Jango, he was visiting the seedier parts of the planet the Jedi don’t have to go to. The Jedi got to sit in the Temple or visit the higher-end places while the undercity thrived on crime and illegal activities. It felt weird to view Coruscant cynically, but walking by garbage thrown onto the streets or someone passed out alongside a building didn’t make it very easy to think happy thoughts. Nevertheless, he stuck close to Jango. He didn’t have anything important on him but he didn’t trust some of the hooded figures that tried to walk closer to him than necessary. 

They arrived at a small nightclub. Before walking in, Jango stopped to look at Obi-Wan. It was hard to tell what he was specifically looking at, and Obi-Wan found his senses within the Force starting to get assaulted by the number of bodies and loud music in the building. Jango gave him a curt nod and led the way inside. 

It was dark inside, the main lighting having a lime green hue to it. It was a small nightclub, but there was a dance floor in the middle of the main room and booths along the walls. A bar was in the back, tucked into a corner but big enough for plenty of people to sit at. The crowd wasn’t very friendly. Or, at least, the type of audience wasn’t made of the type who would come to this nightclub to celebrate a bachelor or bachelorette party. They were at a bounty hunter’s type of assemblage. 

Jango stood near the entrance to study the room momentarily. Obi-Wan was busy critiquing the sights when Jango led the way to a small booth in the corner. A female Palliduvan with a bald head except for an antenna and a long, messy, brown ponytail sat in the booth Jango was aiming for. She raised an eyebrow when Obi-Wan (as directed by Jango), followed by Jango, sat across from her. 

“Fett,” she greeted with a satin voice. “How long has it been?” 

“Not long enough,” Jango grumbled. 

“Who’s this little toy?” 

Obi-Wan could feel Jango bristle in the Force. However, he calmed down surprisingly fast. 

“Aurra, this is Dral Khor. Dral, this is Aurra Sing. We’ve worked some jobs together. She’s a fellow bounty hunter,” Jango introduced tersely. 

Aurra nor Obi-Wan held out their hands to shake but they each stared, sizing one another up. 

“He looks a bit generic. Though, I got a message from Bane not long before you contacted me. He said the kid you had with you on Chandrila just about killed him on… Kreeling, was it? He got his ass handed to him, he actually had wounds to lick… He also said your little one fought like he was possessed or something.” Aurra leaned forward to rest her chin on her hand leaning on the table. A creepy grin grew on her face and Obi-Wan found himself becoming increasingly unsettled. 

“You should take what Bane says with a grain of salt. Who knows what he is huffing through his breathing tubes…” Jango grumbled. 

Aurra barked out a loud laugh. “Oh, I forgot how much I missed you, Fett. Absolutely gruesome in the field and witty everywhere else. You still haven’t bedded me yet, I’d _love_ to know how you act there, too.” 

A scowl forced its way onto Obi-Wan’s face. He wasn’t getting the best impression from Aurra before, but now he found himself starting to embrace his feelings. He blamed it on her obtrusiveness. 

Jango seemed to react the same but with less contempt. “I’d prefer not to share my partners. Go visit Hondo if you need a fix.” 

The Palliduvan looked thoughtful as if the response was what she might actually do. She noticed Obi-Wan’s furrowed brow and reached out to caress his face. “So what is he to you? Is he your current bedmate?” 

Obi-Wan had to shift awkwardly but in a quick motion, he was able to pull out the dagger hidden on the inside of his cuirass and held it to Aurra’s throat. She sat straight and put her long, boney hands on the table. There was a slight tremor in his hand but it wouldn’t be noticeable without touching his limb. 

“He’s nothing.” 

Nothing?! What was Jango’s angle? Obi-Wan was still glaring at Aurra, but now also squinting from Jango’s response. He was _not_ interested in getting wrapped up in Jango’s web of half-truths and half-lies with his bounty hunter associates. 

Aurra was surprised by the action, but at the same time impressed. “Did you teach him this?” 

Jango glanced between the two, steaming in his own mind but appearing only irritated on the outside. “No.” 

“Oh, he came to you with preloaded skills? Where did you get him? What else can he do? Can I borrow him for the night to try him out?” 

Obi-Wan pressed the blade to her throat momentarily as a warning. Her enthusiasm faded briefly and she stared at him with murderous intent in her eyes. She raised her hands slightly, trying to get the message of her surrender across but also not trying to appear like she was the weak party in their situation to any onlookers. 

“Control your _pet_ , _Fett_ …” she warned. 

Again, Jango looked between the two. He was appearing very unimpressed but Obi-Wan could feel his interest, annoyance, resentment, and anger through the Force. He definitely wasn’t expecting their interaction to go like this but wasn’t exactly disappointed by it. “That’s enough, Khor.” 

Obi-Wan retracted from Aurra and leaned back in his seat, securing his dagger back in its place smoothly. 

“What is he to you, Fett?” Aurra reiterated with a growl. 

“He’s nothing,” Jango repeated. “I wanted you two to meet while we were here. I also wanted to remind you to send jobs my way if you find any interesting.” 

She snorted as the men slid out of the booth (once Jango gave Obi-Wan a firm shove). “You sure know how to leave someone unsatisfied…” 

Jango motioned for Obi-Wan to go ahead, so Obi-Wan took a few steps and extended his senses as Jango leaned down to speak to Aurra. 

_“You’re responsible for finishing his training if anything would happen to me. Get into contact with Roz, she will put you two in contact with each other if he wants to continue training.”_

Obi-Wan caught Aurra looking at him around Jango’s frame. She scrunched up her face and responded to Jango even more quietly. Obi-Wan wasn’t able to pick it up so he exited the nightclub, deciding to lean against the wall by the entrance and cross his arms in an attempt to not look awkward. 

Jango joined him a minute later, first coming out of the nightclub and looking around as if he was panicking until he laid his eyes on Obi-Wan. Obi-Wan felt himself glaring. 

“Why did you refuse to refer to me as your student?” Obi-Wan blurted. 

The Force indicated Jango was frowning, and it was evident in his voice. “Because it’s safer for you, me, and Roz. Makes it seem like we don’t have a connection, and we all get a bit of anonymity.” 

Obi-Wan scoffed loudly and turned his head away. 

“Is something on your mind?” Jango asked with some venom. 

“Yeah, actually.” He gave his attention back to the Mandalorian. “You say that when you’re the best bounty hunter in the galaxy. You can get some anonymity, but anyone who can recognize your armor will know who you are. Bane relates me to being your student because of my face mask, after all. Are you ashamed of my prowess? Am I not good enough to be flaunted as your student? Are you too good to have a student, should I go pack my bags when we return to Outland because you want me out of your hair that badly?” 

“Where did you get these ideas?” The older man’s voice was devoid of emotion, borderline dubious. 

“From you! It’s like you don’t trust me! You’re ashamed to be teaching me, clearly!” Obi-Wan fully turned towards Jango and was ready to get in his face. _Buy’ce_ or not, he’ll crowd Jango’s personal space and line of sight. “You forced me to trust you but you refuse to return the favor. All in all, it’s a bit rude; not acknowledging me as your student and treating me like I’m some grunt incapable of thinking and performing on my own! You said it yourself, you would have let me retrieve Maerth if you knew it was Bane coming to kill Idas. Say it: you don’t trust in my abilities.” 

He should have stopped and listened to the Force’s warning of Jango’s pent up emotions becoming ready to spill the longer Obi-Wan went on. But he didn’t, and he felt Jango’s anger burst in the Force as he pushed Obi-Wan away from the wall and toward the nearest alley. Great! Jango didn’t even have the gull to confront him in public! 

Jango cornered him to the mouth of the nearest alley but didn’t force them to completely enter it. He crowded Obi-Wan against the wall but Obi-Wan refused to cower. 

“It’s hard to put your full trust in someone who is suspicious!” he spat. 

“Suspicious?” Obi-Wan echoed incredulously. “Proof, _please_!” 

“ _Savatia_ ,” Jango started with disdain, “but she was just the icing on the cake! ‘The spirits sing about you’ my ass. The _jetii_ are inflicted with the Force, and if it’s singing about _you_ , then I have reason to worry. My other proof is that your reflexes are too sharp—” 

“How else am I to survive as a swordsman in a galaxy of blaster-users?” Obi-Wan interrupted. 

The interruption only fueled Jango’s anger. “And emotions. You’re on top of anyone’s that we come across. You know when to stop pushing, you know how to fuel the fire, you know how to show _nothing_.” 

“Hypocrite!” Obi-Wan returned. “You’re not so fond of showing your own emotions!” 

“And yet you know how to dance around me or poke me in the right places despite that…” 

“It’s called empathy!” 

“Most empaths aren’t usually able to use what they know against others! Should I also try to decipher why you were so confident you would have survived a fall from the palace roof without harm when that height was guaranteed to kill or maim you? Or should I take Bane’s words to heart and try to figure out how you were fighting like you were possessed when you’re never fought like that in front of me? How about information about you on the HoloNet? Did you want to learn from me that information about you is scarce and you were basically non-existent before Roz found you?” 

Obi-Wan let his hurt show in his eyes. “I thought, of all the people, you would be one to understand.” He pushed against Jango, forcing the _Mand’alor_ to move aside. His voice cracked when he next spoke, “Maybe you should go take Aurra to bed, maybe she’ll loosen you up so you’re not as much of an asshole. Who knows when the last time you got laid was…” 

“Maybe I will,” Jango growled in return. Obi-Wan could feel the man’s eyes watching him start to leave. “Where are you going?” 

“To get the parts for my visor.” He spun around and invaded Jango’s space one more time, the words preparing to come out of his mouth tasting like children’s acidic medicine. “Go have fun with Aurra.” 

He pulled his presence in the Force inward for his own protection and ignored any signals it would try giving him as he walked off. Jango didn’t follow him, and he took that as a good sign. They both needed time away from each other, and if Jango was going to have sex with Aurra, Obi-Wan didn’t want to be anywhere near when that happened. It wasn’t his business, anyway. 

He left the undercity and boarded a mode of public transport to the nearest market. 

Sitting in a one-person seat, he dwelled on how oddly hollow he felt inside, something not even from his own doing (like smothering his emotions or releasing his emotions into the Force). What Jango did wasn’t his business. As grossed out as he was by the thought of Jango and Aurra _doing it_ … Probably the thing that shook him the most was that Jango was suspicious of him and his abilities. He’s too sharp of a person. He has too much intuition, his reflexes are too refined. The words of an old (and possibly senile), Force-sensitive were what defined him, apparently. 

Jango was onto him and that scared him. 

Obi-Wan looked out the window. His breath was starting to speed up. He felt caged. Someone sat in a seat similar to his across the aisleway. Could they tell he was a Jedi? Probably not, but Jango had to know how to spot a Jedi. He has killed several before and they all fight similarly. Though Obi-Wan fought with a different weapon and didn’t wield his weapon like a lightsaber, did Jango have any proof against him there? 

They arrived at their stop and Obi-Wan was up and out of his seat before the transport came to a stop. He slipped to the exit before anyone else could enter the aisle and block him. 

The air on Coruscant wasn’t fresh, it was a fact ingrained in his brain from experience, and yet he was disappointed when he inhaled as soon as he was no longer confined inside the vehicle. It made him wish he was somewhere else. He could be stranded on a planet, for all he cared. He just didn’t want to be on Coruscant anymore. It seemed like only bad things happened to him on Coruscant. 

He walked slowly until he regained his wits. His feet were automatically taking him to a nearby shop that looked like it would supply him with the proper parts. He wandered the isles of the shop, looking at all that was offered. He mostly needed the materials to meld the frame back together. Some wires also needed replacing and he needed a new clasp entirely (if he didn’t want to put the mangled bits back together). At least the screen in front of his eyes wasn’t broken or cracked. He would probably have to order the part if he had to replace that. 

The shop didn’t have the proper clasp but he bought something that he would be able to alter and fit the frame, something that would also need a bit of modification to fit his head again properly. The wires he needed were easy to find and purchase with the rest of his things. 

He took the public transport to the general hangar _Jaster’s Legacy_ was in. The ship’s security system recognized his fingerprints after he inputted the code, and was let aboard. Jango was the one with the fail-safe, and he wasn’t here, so Obi-Wan wouldn’t even be able to leave if he wanted to. 

After stopping by the cargo bay for tools, Obi-Wan settled at the little table in his room and started to work on his visor. He removed the ruined part of the frame first, welding the new pieces on, and then altered the clasp and added it before he had to measure and make sure it fit his head. It took some trial and error, but the frame was eventually finished and fit his head perfectly. It didn’t look as pretty as it did before, now with several lines indicating where he welded, but it could look worse. It showed personality and that it was worn and loved. 

Opening up the frame itself wasn’t difficult. Neither was tearing the charred and destroyed wires out. Melding the wires together so they were smooth and actually worked was the hard part. The smaller welder (if it even was a welder) put out a low charge perfect for reconnecting everything, but he didn’t have the best idea about the direction he was going in. There was something that looked like a datapad that came with the mini welder, so he plugged it into his visor to tell when it was and wasn’t working. 

He was alone on _Jaster’s Legacy_ for several hours before the Force gave him a loud warning of Jango’s approach. It was sudden and made Obi-Wan jump so severely he almost seared the new wire he was working on. He stared at the wire and felt bitterness rise in his throat like bile. He got back to work and ignored the Force’s warning of Jango’s presence growing closer and closer. 

His door was locked, but they both knew the code to override the doors. His door slid open and Obi-Wan, with his back to the door, didn’t acknowledge the other man. 

Jango didn’t say anything and didn’t move further into the room. He leaned against the doorframe, breathing and silently urging Obi-Wan to be the one to speak first. But Obi-Wan knew his tactic and knew he would be the one to win. All of his attention was still on his visor and probably would be for another standard hour or two until the ‘datapad’ relayed good information. 

“We should talk,” Jango finally stated. 

“Should we?” Obi-Wan countered evenly. The silence between them was filled with the sound of the low-grade welder. “We’ve said our peace to each other. I’m aware I haven’t been training under you very long, but maybe this is a sign I should learn the rest on my own.” 

“ _No_. I mean—” Jango sighed. Obi-Wan recognized the sound of him unclipping his helmet. After a second, he spoke without his voice getting altered, “I’m sorry.” 

Obi-Wan set the welder down before he could ruin the wire that was almost complete. He closed his eyes and took a steadying breath in, held it, then let it out slowly. Still, he wasn’t going to face Jango, so he opened his eyes and picked the welder up to continue. 

“Did you have fun with Aurra?” 

“Aurra is an acquaintance. Not only do I trust she’s not clean, I have no interest in her.” 

Obi-Wan huffed as a laugh. It sounded pathetic to his ears yet he felt a bit calmer knowing Jango wasn’t as careless with bedmates as he made himself think. He leaned over his work more and Jango came around to join him at the other side of the table. 

Jango’s finger was suddenly pointing at the wires. “Stop overworking those two and connect the new one to the center of the remaining wire.” 

Obi-Wan stared. He wanted to keep everything connected at the base but he was beginning to make a mess, and connecting the wires in the middle would keep everything equal… He stubbornly moved the wire and began to weld it there without the same issues as before. Hopefully it will run like it used to… 

“Dral, we need to talk,” Jango reiterated. 

Obi-Wan slammed the welder down and outright glared at Jango, his passive-aggressiveness gone. His visor was on the table and not hiding his fiery eyes. “Talk about what? You’re suspicious of me, you don’t trust me! I don’t know how to earn that trust back!” 

Jango was frowning. He reached across the table to grab Obi-Wan’s hands to hold them still. Obi-Wan stared at his face but the other man was looking at their hands. His face was beginning to heat up and he was about ready to pull away and go exercise in the cargo hold if Jango didn’t start explaining. 

“I’m sorry. I trust you, I _do_ , I’ve just had my suspicions. I _do_ understand, but evidence and past events have twisted the way I think sometimes. Your skills are worthy and admirable. I guess I wasn’t expecting you to be such a quick learner and prepared to handle what I threw your way.” 

“It doesn’t explain why you don’t trust in my abilities, and it’s a poor excuse as to why you are suspicious of me!” He started to pull his hands back but Jango ran his thumbs over Obi-Wan’s knuckles, effectively short-circuiting the younger man’s brain. 

“It doesn’t,” Jango agreed. He was refusing to look at Obi-Wan. That was annoying but he probably would lose focus or his steel if he looked up. As always, Jango wasn’t an emotional person and that meant he might be struggling with this. “It is an issue of not wanting to relinquish control and follow your lead. It’s an issue of believing others before I believe you.” 

“I hope you realize how _big_ of an issue that is.” 

“I do. Honestly? I feel bad for it.” 

Jango finally looked up at him and Obi-Wan bit his lip instinctively. 

“I need to show you something.” Jango let go of his hands and pulled out his datapad. He tapped a few things on the screen before he held it out to Obi-Wan. Obi-Wan took it and squinted at the screen until he realized what he was looking at. 

Several boxes of text and images were pulled up on the screen. Jango began to explain that he was talking to Roz— _not_ Aurra—to cool down after their heated chat. Roz sent over some documents about Alderaan and a hotel room she swiftly booked for them. Included was a pamphlet about Alderaan, provided by Star Tours, and other little paragraphs about the planet itself and the city they were going to. Roz booked them a vacation. 

Obi-Wan was dumbfounded as he stared at it. As much as Jango hated not working and doing activities that he thought were sappy, he wasn’t giving off any negative emotions in the Force (but if he initially protested it would have only been heard by Roz). 

He opted for shaking his head and handing the datapad back. “I know you don’t enjoy bonding activities like that. Tell Roz to get her money back and we can go on another job instead.” 

Jango smiled tightly and shook his head as he powered the device down and set it aside. “Roz already said she won’t take no for an answer. She booked the best room and found activities for us to participate in while we’re planetside. I already tried giving her counteroffers.” 

“There’s no way you want to go boating down the Juran River.” 

Jango shrugged, looking part pleased and part smug. Of course he didn’t want to, he just probably got guilt-tripped into becoming subdued by Roz. 

Obi-Wan rolled his eyes as he attached the visor to his head. He began to clean up the tools and brought them back to the cargo bay with Jango following him uncharacteristically. That continued up until Obi-Wan grabbed the datapad they kept in the lounge for reading. Then Jango announced that he would be leaving to go buy a secondary visor screen for Obi-Wan and some other things for _Jaster’s Legacy_. Obi-Wan couldn’t help rolling his eyes again as his screen flickered randomly (because, just his luck, something might be broken in it too and Jango probably knew). 

By the time Jango returned with his purchases and a meal for them (and Obi-Wan was almost positive it was timely), Obi-Wan was napping in the same spot, dead to the world around him, with the datapad abandoned on his chest. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> While working on some future chapters, I found a new translator that seems to actually translate everything that I put into it! Hopefully I'll be able to use it to incorporate more Mando'a. I feel bad for depriving Jango of his language. Whether it's right, though, who knows. It's already a made up language so...


	18. Chapter 18

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've used Ruus (Ruusan Reformation) and BTC (Treaty of Coruscant) as year labels. I don't know which I'll be using in the future, if I'll ever need to timestamp a year again.

Juranno was a city on the planet Alderaan. Its existence went farther back than 14 BCT, year 2,667 before the Ruusan Reformation. Though it was destroyed in that year, it and the surrounding land was rebuilt and continues to be a popular Alderaanian city to this day. Like the rest of the planet, it was peaceful, full of beauty, and refined culturally, but with a special focus on the arts (like the rest of the planet) and architecture. The city was built in the Juran Mountains valley, at the end of the Juran River. The river, though quite long and not being very large despite being well-known, eventually led to Lir Lakir. 

Obi-Wan has never been to Alderaan before now and was glad to finally be visiting. Being a Core World, it was luxurious and it was a fundamental planet to discover and express one’s creativity. Star Tours even named it the safest planet in the galaxy. 

But instead of sending them to enjoy the arts or admire the architecture, Roz was sending them on a vacation to smooth the rocky relationship between them (and those weren’t her words but Obi-Wan knew her intentions). 

They arrived in the morning, traveling through hyperspace through the night cycle. When they first stepped off _Jaster’s Legacy_ , they were hit with warm air that could only be described as summer air. Jango instantly released resentment into the Force and Obi-Wan adjusted his stance thinking about how his clothes will be sticking to him by the time they reach their hotel. 

They left the hangar and went on the short walk to their hotel. They toted their simple bags of clothes and hygiene products with them, Jango commenting on having to shop for season-appropriate clothes. The workers at the desk checked them in and let them through, despite Jango in his Mandalorian armor and Obi-Wan wearing his dressed-down ensemble of armor, without any issues. 

The hotel was short and didn’t seem like an actual hotel. Their room was the loft of the hotel. The main room was large, rectangular-shaped; not as tall as the room Idas put them in but longer length and width wise. All of the outside walls were thick-glass windows and the inside walls had a silver shimmer. The white tiles were black-marbled, each tile individually framed with perfect silver grout. A small kitchenette, only equipped to heat leftovers or prepare a small meal, was situated in the corner by the inside wall next to the little couches and flatscreen on the wall. Opposite of that wall was a balcony overlooking part of the city and a little park. Since they were on the edge of the city, part of the meadows and forests were partly in view. 

On the other side of the inside wall, to the left after exiting the elevator, was the bedroom connected to the refresher. The bedroom was plain. The carpet was a blue-silver shag and the _single_ , king-size canopy bed was white with silver blankets and curtained with a semi-opaque silver material. At the foot of the bed was a padded bench (with the same matching silver color scheme). Across from the bed was an empty dresser. 

Through another door in the room was the refresher. The outside walls were windows but dark enough so the ones in the room couldn’t be seen when doing their business (the same type of windows also in the bedroom). On one wall was a large mirror and counter with one illustrious sink. In the corner by the window was a large therapy bathtub, between it and the corner containing a small shower (closest corner to the bedroom, aside from the counter), was a toilet. 

It was a beautiful room, probably more enjoyable than the room Idas put them in because there were more colors than just gold (but it leaned on the side of containing almost too much silver). The only issue would once again revolve around the bed, and Roz booked them for an entire week, and all of the couches were too small to sleep on… 

To Obi-Wan’s surprise, Jango didn’t fuss about the only bed. He set his things down on it, took his _buy’ce_ off, and began to detach his _beskar’gam_ from his flight suit and took his flak vest off. 

“Are we shopping first?” Obi-Wan asked as he put his stuff down on the bed, too, and sat on the bench. With all the stuff Roz sent over, an itinerary was something she also provided. There were spots on their schedule that she left free for them to fill themselves. For example, on the first day they are planetside, the only thing she wrote was ‘shopping’. She most likely wasn’t expecting them to get surprised by the weather but was trying to encourage them to waste their credits on little knick-knacks and souvenirs. 

“We have to unless you’re looking forward to being miserable the entire time we’re here,” Jango replied, annoyed. He pulled the covers back to hide all pieces of his _beskar’gam_ under them, putting his _buy’ce_ between the pillows so it wasn’t immediately obvious to any possible unwelcome visitor. He didn’t have his jetpack to hide since they didn’t leave _Jaster’s Legacy_ with any visible weapons on them (and there was always a rocket loaded in his jetpack). Though Jango had his WESTAR-34 blasters hidden in his bag, Obi-Wan, following his lead, brought his dagger with him. “I hope you’ve saved up and haven’t gone on frilly spending sprees.” 

“You and Roz have been fairly generous paying for things when I have the credits.” 

“Roz has a soft spot for you…” Jango divulged as they returned to the main room. “Her little angel from Iego…” 

“Seems awfully poetic coming from either of you.” 

Jango shrugged. He summoned the elevator, the doors opening right away, and stepped in with the other man following him. 

Some of Jango’s stubbornness really shone when they were in cities. His refusal to rent transportation when they cannot bring their own speeder meant they were to walk everywhere unless they absolutely couldn’t get there without a ride or it was too far of a distance to walk. They didn’t know where the nearby shops were but it was a good enough reason to walk and their mini-datapads were on their persons if they desperately needed them. Juranno wasn’t a huge city and since it was on Alderaan people would probably be willing to help them if they asked. 

Walking the pristine streets was calming. The roads weren’t busy and the sidewalks were fairly clear. It was still early in the day and the temperature was warm, so maybe those were contributors to the low public population. Most people were inside where they would stay cool, wearing temperature-appropriate clothing. It made Obi-Wan feel foolish as he wore his utility pants, boots, and long sleeve shirt designed to cover part of his neck and protect him from the weather. And Jango, despite his moisture-wicking suit, was getting tortured by the flight suit that protected him from the weather but also was supposed to keep him warm. 

They found a shop not long after they started walking. It was filled with colorful shirts, sandals, sunglasses, and shorts. The person behind the counter seemed to recognize they weren’t from the planet and started to tell them about the shop’s discounts and went on to explain some of the happenings around the city. Jango briskly replied that their week was already planned out for them but the employee continued speaking like Jango didn’t just brush them off. And, since Jango didn’t have any of his _beskar’gam_ or weapons on display, he wasn’t able to scare the employee off like he normally would. Obi-Wan clipped his visor around his neck to be polite, but the object didn’t seem to deter the employee, either. 

The employee eventually let them be after only getting short answers and constant dirty looks from Jango. 

“What brings you to Alderaan?” was a question asked. 

“Paid time off,” Jango answered. Not entirely true… 

“Oh? What will you be doing?” 

“Sleeping.” 

“And sight-seeing,” Obi-Wan supplied after Jango’s poor answer. 

“Really! Well, are you two planning to row down the Juran River? There is a company down by the start of the river that will provide you boats! And they can spruce up the channel and boat to make the atmosphere more _romantic_.” 

“Our trip is already planned, and the days we aren’t doing anything, I plan to spend sleeping.” 

Roz planned for them to go down the Juran River but conveniently left out any details other than suggested times. 

Obi-Wan and Jango split up in the shop to search for their own things. Obi-Wan first picked out his shirts. Most of the shirts had bright flower designs on them. As much as he didn’t want to wear something so colorful and eye-catching, he pulled several in his size off the rack and went to search the shorts. The shorts weren’t as vibrant, but there were a few that you should probably only wear a solid shirt with. He picked one pair of black shorts and several tan pairs and continued to the sandals section for appropriate footwear. He grabbed the first pair of black sandals in his size. 

Jango met him at the dressing rooms and they tried their things on in their own rooms. Obi-Wan was thankful that everything he grabbed fit. He didn’t want to try on even more of the bright shirts. He went to go buy his things before Jango. Jango purchased his things afterward, buying two pairs of sunglasses while he was at it. He stuck a pair of sunglasses on Obi-Wan’s face before the younger man could put his visor back on. 

They went to a few other shops before they returned to their hotel, stopping on the floor before theirs to throw their items into the laundry. They stuck around until their clothes were dried then continued to their room (thank modern times for the quick and thorough machines). 

Jango went to the bedroom and Obi-Wan locked himself in the refresher to change. He decided to put on a tan pair of shorts and one of the few mute-colored flower shirts. With the sunglasses on his head, he looked like a true tourist. He sighed at his reflection and opened the door to rejoin Jango, who didn’t look like he was faring any better. 

Jango chose a shirt with blue and white flower designs and the same type of tan shorts as Obi-Wan. He was still buttoning his shirt up, but Obi-Wan wasn’t focusing on the abs he knew were there. Instead, he was looking at the shorts. The bottoms of them were high enough that some of the paler muscles could be seen. It was funny and an entirely new sight because Jango never wore anything above the knee. He would happily work out in a pair of thick pants over something that would sit higher than his knee. 

Obi-Wan felt the corner of his mouth start to turn upward. 

“Don’t comment,” Jango growled when he noticed the younger man staring. “I’d put my base layer back on if I knew I wouldn’t die of heatstroke.” 

“You’re dressed like a true civilian,” Obi-Wan remarked, and wondered if he would regret his next words, “it’s cute.” 

Jango snorted with a little too much force, giving away some of his embarrassment. “It’s not cute!” 

Obi-Wan smiled when a pair of dumbfounded eyes locked onto his. He tipped his head in response and walked out of the room to put his boots on (because they would probably be more comfortable to walk around in than sandals). He sat on a couch to put them on, soon joined by Jango doing the same. 

They went back down the elevator and into the streets to continue their first day of shopping. Going deeper into the city allowed them to come across the stores that weren’t directly aimed at tourists. 

One of the more notable stores was a craft store. They walked through the aisles of paints and fabrics. They came across flowers that Obi-Wan took interest in and bought several colors of. They even went through an aisle dedicated to crocheting. Obi-Wan, remembering what Jango told him on Chandrila, stopped in his tracks and looked expectantly at his companion. Jango, who has had a cool head during their second outing, looked back at him with some confusion until he realized Obi-Wan’s implication. 

Might as well get the supplies while they were here. Jango hesitated before he cautiously approached the supplies. Obi-Wan noted the bashfulness. Jango was the one who said he could crochet, yet he was acting afraid of his own hobby. It was charming but he would remember that. 

After they got their supplies—Obi-Wan flowers and Jango hooks and thread—they bought their items and made their way to the nearest cafe. 

Maybe it was their luck, or since it was after the lunch rush, it wasn’t busy. They claimed a booth by having Obi-Wan sit in it while Jango went to get their drinks. Obi-Wan asked for a tea without clarifying the flavor and smiled when a disgruntled Jango returned with a cup of iced caf and a cup of steaming tea. 

“Any problems?” Obi-Wan asked curiously as the tea was set in front of him and Jango slid into the corner booth next to him. 

“Yeah, actually,” Jango grunted. “They offer a lot more teas than black or green.” 

“So what is this?” 

“Jasmine. I would’ve ordered _behot_ but they don’t have that, for whatever reason…” 

Jango’s thought process wasn’t the clearest, Obi-Wan had to admit. _Behot_ was popular for _shig_ but other planets didn’t share the sentiment. Green and black tea were the most popular and well-known to the rest of the universe. So why he came back with jasmine tea wasn’t very clear. Maybe he liked the way it sounded? Nonetheless, Obi-Wan would drink it. Tea is tea, the same goes for _shig_. 

Obi-Wan raised his cup in a mock-toast before he took a sip of it. “Thank you.” 

“And thanks for saving the seat.” 

No one came in after them and only two other tables in the cafe were occupied. There were plenty of seats to choose from and several other corner booths. It was also safe to assume that anyone who would come in after them might not even sit down. Jango was either being sarcastic or paranoid. 

“Yeah…” 

They drank and relaxed in their booth, each taking out their mini datapads to browse. Obi-Wan eventually got up to get them some fancy biscuits and cookies. Jango didn’t appear to care for them but ate his share anyway. He seemed to observe Obi-Wan to see which the younger man was favoring and ate the remaining ones. Which he didn’t have to do… Obi-Wan would eat basically anything. 

He dared to look at the schedule Roz planned for them. The only thing on the first day was shopping. She had visits to the main art gallery and a music recital planned for them tomorrow. On Taungsday, they were to have a spa day. They were to go boating on Zhellday and have a meal together at the most expensive restaurant in the city in the evening. Then Benduday was for them to spend it as they pleased before they are required to leave the next morning. 

“Do we have to dress up on Zhellday?” Obi-Wan asked. He felt Jango look over his shoulder to view the schedule. 

“To an extent…” Jango grumbled. “But not when we’re boating. Guess we can’t wear this garb tomorrow also.” 

No, connoisseurs probably wouldn’t appreciate them walking around or sitting in the audience of the grand establishments looking like they just came from a walk on a beach. Obi-Wan wouldn’t be surprised if the most expensive restaurant in the city would look down at them for dressing like they were now. He had to wonder what Roz was thinking by sending them to places for two days that required them to dress nicely. Jango’s definition of dressing nicely was wearing his full ensemble of _beskar’gam_ after a fresh polishing! 

Although… wearing their usual clothes—Obi-Wan wearing a plain long sleeve and clean utility pants and Jango in his flight suit but without _beskar’gam_ —could work. They’ll have to see. 

Obi-Wan didn’t get to research their activities. Jango chugged his drink and was silently urging his companion to hurry so they could continue shopping and return to their room early. They’ll have to order room service but Jango probably didn’t care. 

They put their dishes in a tub on their way out and began to circle around the city. For safe measures, they stopped by a shop selling nicer clothes for at least one nice outfit each to wear during their art activities the next day and their meal at the restaurant. Obi-Wan chose an ensemble of blacks that would match his boots; a button-up shirt (the buttons studded with cheap little jewels) decorated with thin, delicate designs and a pair of pants that were similar to his normal utility pants but fitter. Jango found himself a pair of charcoal pants that were decorated thinly along the sides of the legs, a thin midnight blue zip-up sweater, and a blue puffer vest he would be able to wear over his base layer. 

Obi-Wan raised an eyebrow at the other man’s choices. 

“What? You’ll be thankful when it gets handed to you after our trip to replace the vest you came with. This vest is water-proof and can fit a heated liner in it,” Jango defended himself. 

“I like my other vest,” Obi-Wan responded feebly. 

They bought their items and walked out of the store. Jango was directing them to their next stop: a candle shop. He wanted to get Roz some as a little present for sending them on vacation (Obi-Wan couldn’t tell if he was being sarcastic or not). 

“Your vest is only for style, isn’t it? Wouldn’t you prefer something beneficial?” 

His vest carried his lightsabers. He should be wearing it, but instead, he wanted to keep them safe on Outland. As much as he wants to keep his personal weapons with him, he was also trying to rely on them less. His falchion has proved that it can protect him but it wasn’t the same as an actual lightsaber. Maybe with time he will be completely comfortable being without a lightsaber but that time hasn’t come yet. 

“I guess but it has sentimental value.” 

“I never said you have to get rid of it. Just that it’s less useful than the one I just bought. Maybe this one will also soften the way your chestpiece sits on you.” 

They walked through the candle shop without saying much else. Jango went through, picking up candles to smell then holding them out for Obi-Wan to also smell. None of them were outstanding but they all had a pleasant smell. Jango grumbled when he didn’t come to a conclusion after a lap of the store so he went back through and picked random ones that smelled nice. Obi-Wan wandered during Jango’s second lap to grab several small ones that he could light on _Jaster’s Legacy_ so the ship didn’t constantly smell like burning plastoid (something that Jango said was normal, especially when they were traveling through hyperspace. The ex-Jedi didn’t believe it was normal but the ship hasn’t fallen apart yet). 

Jango gave him an odd look when Obi-Wan stood in line behind him. He rolled his eyes and took the candles from the younger man to add to his purchase. 

When they were outside, Obi-Wan poked Jango in the side roughly. “I _can_ pay for things myself…” 

“I know.” 

“So let me.” 

“No.” 

“Why?” 

“Because I’m being nice.” 

It was Obi-Wan’s turn to roll his eyes but he didn’t press the issue. 

They swung through several other shops but didn’t buy anything else besides a few snacks they’ll finish in their hotel room in the upcoming days. They were able to have little taste-testers while they were there. Jango made note of the location of the store so they could possibly return for more before they leave the planet. 

It took about a standard hour to return to their hotel room. Jango pulled up the room service menu and Obi-Wan took their clothes to the floor below them to get them washed. He waited by the machine until the clothes were washed and dried, entertaining himself with his datapad before he went back upstairs. Their room service had arrived before he returned but it was still warm. 

Jango ordered them the same meals; roasted gorak with a side of steamed malla petals, and a dessert of starblossom cookies. A bottle of Alderaanian ale was provided with the meal. 

“Smells good,” Obi-Wan commented as he dumped the clean clothes on the bed and started to fold them. 

“Looks edible,” Jango returned. He was setting up the table since he no longer had to worry about keeping the food warm. 

It took several minutes to fold the clothes. He left them on the bed and joined Jango, sitting across from him at the small table located near the kitchenette. 

The gorak was juicy and the malla petals complimented the bird meat well. They were probably supposed to be mixed together but the hotel definitely prepared them separately. The starblossom cookies were pleasantly sweet and not overbearing to the tastebuds. The Alderaanian ale (very rare on other planets except for Alderaan) did a fine job of tying everything together. Normally, Obi-Wan wouldn’t choose to drink alcohol with his meals but he didn’t have any complaints. After all, they were on vacation. Roz’s goal was probably to get them to ‘let loose’. 

The sun was starting to set by the time they were cleaned up. They were on the couch browsing the local channels on the flatscreen and finishing the ale. Jango, seemingly embracing their momentary freedom, ordered another bottle of ale for them to share. It was nowhere near as potent as Jango’s Mandalorian alcohol but Obi-Wan felt it calm him down (since he wasn’t filtering it out of his systems). 

They ended up watching the tail-end of an action movie that Jango immediately scoffed at. Obi-Wan has never seen it so he watched the screen and listened to Jango rant about the inaccuracy of it all. Apparently, it was about a bounty hunter/mercenary like them. The main character, a rather stereotypical human male, was overdramatic about everything, gets the girl at the end, and clearly smashes his ship through the side of a warehouse but repairs it within an hour (those were some of Jango’s biggest gripes). They missed most of the beginning but Obi-Wan understood enough when he saw the stale acting. 

They didn’t make a drinking game out of it. Jango mentioned putting on more movies like it and order some more ale but Obi-Wan advised against it. Since they’re going to the art gallery in the morning, they had to be up at a decent time to make sure they looked presentable and arrived early enough. Jango seemed a bit disappointed by his companion’s answer but silently agreed to not go along with his proposal. Instead, he encouraged Obi-Wan to take his turn in the ‘fresher first. 

Obi-Wan gulped down the rest of his share of the ale before he went to the bedroom to collect his nightclothes and retreated to the refresher. He was quick about getting his shower and finishing the rest of his hygiene for the day. It wasn’t long since he entered and when he exited, Jango was putting his _beskar’gam_ on the dresser and gathering his own nightclothes. 

“Facilities good?” the Mandalorian teased. 

“Yes, so well in fact I left you no warm water,” Obi-Wan retorted. 

“I’d believe that if we were on the ship…” Because _Jaster’s Legacy_ was in need of a new water heater or Jango needed to turn the temperature up. With that, Jango entered the refresher to take his turn. 

Obi-Wan was then left alone and chose his side of the bed. He chose the side facing the wrap-around balcony and the rest of the city. He turned off the light and settled in bed. 

Laying on his side, it reminded him of Coruscant. Juranno was less busy, however, but there were still signs of activity at night. Some of the taller buildings glowed with life and there were some vehicles driving through the air to their destinations. The mountains were visible, emphasizing that the city was popular but on the small side yet homely at the same time. It was all an odd combination that managed to have a calming effect. 

Obi-Wan was in a light doze by the time Jango finished in the ‘fresher and was climbing into his side of the bed. The movement caused the ex-Jedi to jolt in his sleep, nearly causing him to bolt upright if he had been in a deeper state of sleep. Jango simply shushed him and apologized for disturbing the younger man. Though Obi-Wan could tell Jango was being genuine, he also detected the other man was a bit irked because Obi-Wan didn’t have to get so comfy and then get startled when he knew his companion had yet to settle in bed. 

That left Obi-Wan staring at the city again and willing himself to calm down so he could fall back asleep. It didn’t take as much effort as he thought, especially with the alcohol in his system. 

Jango grumbled all morning. As soon as they were awake, his first words were about if they had to go to the gallery. He didn’t mind going to the concert but not sleeping in on his vacation to instead go stare at some paintings was not cool with him. Obi-Wan ignored him in favor of slipping out of his sleeping clothes in the corner of the bedroom and into his ‘nice’ clothes while Jango was still bleary-eyed in bed. He took a wet cloth to his boots to clean them up a bit. 

Jango pulled himself out of bed and dressed when Obi-Wan was in the main room ordering them a small breakfast. Their food arrived not long later. They ate it quickly, made sure they were presentable, then left for the gallery. 

Instead of walking, Obi-Wan encouraged Jango to rent transport to the gallery. It would make the journeying much quicker and they would already be doing a decent amount of walking while they perused the artworks. Jango was grumpy about it but was convinced. They found a station, rented a vehicle, and drove to the sleek building their GPS brought them to. 

The inside of the building was decorated with art and they weren’t in the actual gallery yet. Others were even more dressed up than them and there were groups of conversing people scattered throughout the main room. Jango shifted awkwardly and led the way to the entrance that would allow them into the actual gallery. All he had to do was pull up something that Roz sent them on his mini datapad and the person working the entrance let them through. 

“We _really_ don’t fit in,” Obi-Wan whispered. They entered the first room of the gallery where thankfully not a lot of others were in. 

“Really?” Jango retorted. 

Their clothes were better than what they wore the day before but their faces, uncovered, wore visible scars. Jango’s forking forehead scar was at least less noticeable than the dark line over Obi-Wan’s eye due to the difference in their skin colors (but one could say Jango’s scar could stand out more, especially when he frowned). 

If people stared, they were ignored. Obi-Wan was focused on trying to enjoy the art and Jango was walking close to him and appearing to be doing the same (but with less effort). This would be the first time Obi-Wan has ever been to an art gallery. It was unnecessary as a Jedi and they never had to protect a priceless work in their duties. It wasn’t the most grand of experiences but it was something he could now say he has done. 

They walked through the rooms calmly. Most of the artworks were made on the planet from previous festivals, contests, or open entries. There was quite a lot of traditional artwork made on canvases with paints. There were some sculptures and several blankets of different types made from intricate designs (Obi-Wan noticed Jango extremely responsive to the blankets). One room they walked into had a theme of scents, each piece imbued with a different smell like home, a certain ship, or the ears of someone’s hound. Another room was focused on sounds, where artists crafted an artwork and wrote a music piece to accompany it. The sound and scent exhibits were very impressive. 

One of the larger rooms was dedicated to the history of Juranno with a little bit of Alderaan history, too. It was the room with the least artworks in it due to the pieces of old buildings and other historic items on display. The old building pieces were of the original art gallery. All of the displays were very interesting, but Obi-Wan’s skin felt itchy with discomfort when he read a plaque detailing the destruction of the original Juranno to be from Sith Lord Darth Malgus. Another thing the Jedi could be blamed for… 

Time flew by when they were in the building. It was midday when they emerged so they went to a nearby sandwich shop for second meal. It was busy since it was about the time everyone else wanted to eat too. They stood in line and Obi-Wan examined Jango’s tense frame. 

Jango let him pay for his own meal this time. Obi-Wan ordered a cold cut sandwich with some cheese and greens on it, a small side of chips, and a drink. He wandered off to find them a table while Jango was getting his own food. 

“We only have an hour before we have to be at the recital hall,” Jango informed as he sat down. 

“It shouldn’t take us long to eat sandwiches,” Obi-Wan hummed. 

And it didn’t. The chips were pretty generic and the sandwiches, even though the bread was thick, went down easily. The meal wasn’t a delicacy but it filled their stomachs and would provide decent energy. 

They returned to their rented transport to drive it to the music recital hall next. Jango was once again the driver and Obi-Wan set up the GPS. They arrived at the hall with enough time to spare. They entered the same way they did at the gallery, and they still didn’t get any dirty or odd looks for how simply they dressed. A good thing, definitely, but Obi-Wan had been expecting to get looked down on for not dressing in a full suit. 

The concert went by smoothly and the music was all beautiful. The band consisted of wind and string instruments. They opened up with a march-style song, a piece that is sure to grab everyone’s attention. The second piece was a narrative spoken by the director featuring solos from the first seats of the trumpets, higher strings, and Chidinkalus. The third piece was a chorale, probably Obi-Wan’s favorite because he could tell how the sections had to move together for it all to sound as good as it did. The fourth piece was another type of march but not as strong as the first one. The final piece was a medley containing pieces from a movie Obi-Wan didn’t recognize, but that wasn’t to say it wasn’t enjoyable. He did, he thought the final piece was splendid. 

A few other ensembles played after them. A choir sang several songs next. One song was in galactic basic and the other three pieces varied in language. After them, a smaller band resembling a cantina band (because of the size and instruments involved) played, and their music resembled that of a cantina band. All of their songs were peppy and that of what you would hear in a cantina. Once they were done, all of the directors stood on stage and gave parting words to end the concert. 

The length of the concert was sizable but not as long as what it took for them to go through the art gallery. Jango made a comment about Roz not knowing their style as they were returning their speeder to where they rented it from. Obi-Wan didn’t confirm or deny him since he would have to deal with the backlash for the rest of the night as they spend it in their hotel room and order room service again. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Translations:  
> behot - citrus-flavored herb, favored by Mandalorians for shig  
> shig - tea


	19. Chapter 19

_Maul was there again. Every other night or so Obi-Wan’s dreams were plagued by the Zabrak. He wasn’t forced to relive his final moments on Ryloth and with Kencha. Instead, he was getting tormented with the Darksaber. No words were exchanged. Even being in a compromising position of kneeling with his hands chained to the ground, Obi-Wan was refusing to acknowledge the Sith._

_But, as soon as the flat of the blade was pressing against the skin of his back, Obi-Wan was unable to keep the sounds of anguish back. His skin sizzled as it was getting seared. Soon the scent of burning flesh would invade his nostrils…_

_The only time Obi-Wan has felt a lightsaber at full power used against him was when Maul grazed him on Naboo, and at that moment he was pumped full of adrenaline and the Force he hardly felt it at the time. During lightsaber training with other Padawans was much less painful because their weapons were set to stun. How he knew what a lightsaber would actually feel like was disturbing._

_Maul pulled the blade away to press it against Obi-Wan’s left bicep then transferred it to the other arm. Obi-Wan felt himself groaning against the pain but couldn’t hear anything except his cooking flesh. The blade was then pressed to several places on his front for the same effect until Obi-Wan’s entire upper body felt inflamed._

_His head was drawn upward when the Sith took a step back. The tip of the Darksaber was pointed at his forehead. Obi-Wan stared into the emotionless eyes of Maul, his own eyes reflecting the same emptiness, as the tip was slowly pressed into his forehead…_

He was in a fetal position _almost_ resembling the position he was in his dream under the blankets. His head was throbbing with a sharp headache. He poked his head out from under the blankets to squint at the city. It was the same as it was the previous night. He looked in the other direction to check on Jango. Jango was propped up using some of the many pillows, blankets pulled up to his clothed chest. His posture was part relaxed and part tense, which shouldn’t be allowed. And he was awake, looking at Obi-Wan with shiny, languid eyes. 

“You should be asleep,” Obi-Wan blurted defensively. Now was a time he wished Jango wasn’t a light sleeper. If he was still asleep, Obi-Wan could deal with his nightmares alone. Jango wouldn’t feel the need to come to his rescue again. 

Jango raised an eyebrow, unimpressed. “I was; before you started squirming.” 

Obi-Wan looked away guiltily. Jango already said he squirms in his sleep. He didn’t complain about Obi-Wan squirming on Kreeling, so it must be worse when he dreams. 

“I’m sorry.” He moved so he was on his side again and facing the city. 

The older man sighed. The bed shifted slightly as he settled down to sleep again. However, that may not have been the case. Obi-Wan’s waist was grabbed from behind and he was _not_ proud of the noise that escaped him as he was dragged away from the edge of the bed. He laid there, closer to the center of the bed frozen in shock as warmth settled at his back. Jango was also laying on his side and pressing their backs together. He adjusted the blankets to his liking. They happened to go up to Obi-Wan’s chin and didn’t need more arranging. 

“Jango—” Obi-Wan started to protest. 

“Just go to sleep, Dral,” Jango pleaded tiredly. He turned for a moment. Obi-Wan felt an arm press against his back for a second. He almost jolted away, hypersensitive from his dreams. “Save all your stress for when we’re at the spa…” 

Obi-Wan decided not to reply. Jango settled back down and was asleep soon. The ex-Jedi focused on the sounds of the other’s soft breathing and was pulled under. 

In the morning, they slept in. A rare occurrence that only seemed fitting since they were on vacation (but also because their activity wasn’t very early in the day). Obi-Wan was the second to wake. He was still facing the windows and his back was pressed against something warm. He dared to look behind him to see Jango propped up with the pillows again. Though, it looked like Jango was half asleep with his head bent forward and a concentrated expression on his face. 

Obi-Wan moved away from Jango’s side so he could comfortably sit up. The action stirred the Mandalorian right away, his brown eyes flashing open and darting to Obi-Wan to view the source. He looked lost for a few seconds but that dissipated quickly. 

They began the process of getting around, still looking like regular civilians in summer wear. They sat together in the main room to order room service. Obi-Wan, meanwhile, researched the spa to keep himself busy. 

The spa wasn’t far, which meant they would probably walk to it. There were a lot of services offered, but Roz already ordered them a package. Their package was probably one of the most expensive and largest ones. An all-day adventure, with second meal and afternoon snacks available. Robes and slippers would be provided and it’s recommended to wear or bring swim trunks with you. Obi-Wan felt himself frown at the words. 

“What?” Jango saw his expression. 

“The spa recommends we wear or bring swim trunks for our appointment.” He found the facilities of the spa listed farther down in the information. “Looks like we’ll have access to swimming facilities.” 

“We’ll have access to all the facilities, thanks to Roz,” Jango grumbled. Now that they were waiting for their food, he stood. “Might as well wear them.” 

Obi-Wan let Jango head to the bedroom to change first so he could keep reading about the spa. He didn’t get very far since Jango was fast at changing, and when he himself had his swim shorts on, their meal arrived so there was no more time to read. After they ate their light meal, they would have to leave so they make their appointment in time. And since their meal consisted of buttered toast and fruit smoothies (a very odd choice that surprisingly wasn’t Jango’s), they were able to leave so they would arrive early. 

The spa was in a decorated part of Juranno, right along a recreational zone designated as a park (Obi-Wan wasn’t sure what to label the fenced land because there were warnings outside of the property to not feed the animals). There was a little fish pond outside of the spa and they had to walk through an extended pergola decorated with vines growing up the columns and flowers on the top. Oddly enough, Jango tensed as they walked through the tunnel of plants as if he was expecting an attack. Obi-Wan placed a hand on the other man’s arm as a way to comfort him. The _Mand’alor_ startled but seemed to respond positively to the action. 

They walked through the entrance and found themselves in a pale, minimalistic, closed-off lobby. Straight back against the main wall was a desk made of pale, faux wood, and sitting behind it was a young woman. She brightened when they walked in. 

“Hello, welcome to Starblossom Petals! I’m Elne, she/her. Do you have an appointment or is this a walk-in?” she asked. 

“We have an appointment. It should be under the name of Roz,” Jango answered. 

Elne looked down at her datapad. She pressed a few things before she gave her attention back to them. “Jango and Dral, both go by he/him, correct?” 

Obi-Wan nodded as Jango responded hesitantly. “Correct…” 

“First customers of the day! Tell me, is this your first time at a spa?” Both men nodded. Elne’s smile widened with joy as she grabbed her datapad and a stylus then stood. “That is quite all right! If you’ll follow me, we will head to a quick consultation.” 

She brought them to a connected room and sat down at the desk there, instructing for the two men to sit in the two chairs across from her. When they were all situated, she began again. 

“Is this a honeymoon gift? Celebrating as newlyweds? Well, I must say, Juranno was an excellent choice!” Obi-Wan choked on air and Jango _visibly_ tensed. The woman noticed their reactions and tipped her head. “I don’t mean to intrude, of course. But I am aware that someone else scheduled your appointment and the package ordered was the Ultra Honeymoon Getaway, minus the overnight stay.” 

Jango grit his teeth. “No, you are correct. We prefer to keep quiet about the topic.” 

Elne looked at them apologetically. “I’m sorry if it’s a sore subject. It won’t be mentioned anymore while you are here. At the end of the day, the goal is for you to be relaxed. So, sensing some strain between you two… do you wish to not see each other all day, or are you fine if your activities overlap? I’m asking this because, if you two don’t want to see each other again until it is time for you to return home, none of your treatments will be in the same place at the same time.” 

Obi-Wan looked to Jango for an answer. He himself would probably prefer sticking near his companion, but he would respect Jango’s wishes if he wanted the day alone. Jango eventually returned the look with a constrained expression. Obi-Wan wasn’t going to pry… 

“Overlapping activities would be preferred,” Jango finally provided an answer. 

“Great! You’ll start the same treatments together and go through everything else at the same time. The only reason you two would have to part is when you’ll change or if your therapist thinks you aren’t done with treatment yet. Onto the next topic…” 

Elne began to go over a series of questions that pertained to what treatments they would be able to receive and learn any possible fragrances or ingredients to avoid. Neither man was allergic to anything. When asked about the conditions of their skin, neither man gave a reassuring answer (as seen by the grimace Elne displayed). They had their swim trunks on so they were welcome to swim in the pool when it was time to and they were encouraged to completely drape for the full experience (but only during the necessary treatments). 

It wasn’t enough to make Obi-Wan’s head spin but he found himself wondering what exact treatments they would be receiving with their package. 

Their consultation was finalized when each man decided they would prefer masseuses. Elne smiled at them politely and asked them to go sit in the lounge by the entrance until their masseuses retrieved them. They obeyed but they weren’t sitting for very long when two women came to get them. 

They were led through a few halls until they reached a room with several massage tables. Their masseuses stepped out of the room to give them privacy to change out of their clothes. They were allowed to go entirely in the nude, and were encouraged to, but were left with the advice not to push themselves out of their own comfort zones. 

Obi-Wan stepped behind a little divider to pull his shirt off. “Are you doing that?” he asked quietly. 

Jango made a noise. “Yeah.” 

Not surprising, but Obi-Wan wanted to ask. He decided he would follow Jango’s lead—deciding to go fully nude—but was beyond nervous as he wrapped a towel around his waist and was speedy with situating himself on a bed. Jango was much slower as he chose the bed next to Obi-Wan, movements careful as he also settled. 

Their masseuses came back in when Jango spoke loud enough to summon them. They began to work their hands into muscles delicately, starting on the lightest massage. Obi-Wan got lost in the sensation of his muscles getting worked lightly. His masseuse found the knots in his back with ease and did her best to work them out. It felt almost like waking from a perfect-length nap or emerging from a meditation where all emotions are released into the Force without issues. 

She eventually kicked it up a notch by kneading into his muscles with more force. She dug more into his knots and old scars that marred his skin. It wasn’t bad but it wasn’t as nice as the warm-up.If Obi-Wan thought he was starting to feel uncomfortable, he was very surprised when he felt something pop near his shoulder. It caused him to flinch. 

His masseuse stopped. “I am so sorry. There’s nothing in your file about something that might shift and cause pain.” 

“Old injury…” Obi-Wan muttered into the table. 

“Again, I’m sorry. I’ll wind your treatment down. That clearly hurt and that’s not the goal.” 

She was thankfully more careful and her administrations were softer. To wrap the treatment up, she rubbed oil into his back before placing heated stones along his spine. She left him alone, telling him she would go input some things in his file and see what was next on their schedule. 

Obi-Wan turned his head to look at Jango and found the man staring back with a calm face and worry in his eyes. 

“All good?” 

“Old injury, as I said. It’ll stop hurting once it’s settled again.” 

Jango nodded slowly. “Let me look at it later.” 

“Maybe.” 

Obi-Wan watched Jango’s masseuse work until his eyelids drooped and until his rocks had cooled (or at least until his own therapist returned). He remembered studying the scars of some nasty scrapes on Jango, how they were fainter on his flank and noticeably darker after curling onto his back, before his eyes closed. Now, Jango also had stones on his back and was using his crossed arms as a pillow. He had one eye cracked open to watch his companion with lazy interest. 

Obi-Wan’s masseuse gave him enough privacy to slide off the bed to readjust the towel around his waist. He slipped into his swim trunks and put on a soft robe when it was offered to him. He tossed a wink over his shoulder before he was led out of the room, receiving a lopsided devilish grin in return. 

His masseuse, Emme, gave him the option of sitting by the pool or waiting in the garden (if he were to choose the pool, he was welcome to swim). He chose to wander the garden, so she brought him there and left him alone. 

The garden was like a miniature greenhouse. The ceiling was made of glass to let the light in and all the walls were also glass so the surrounding halls had nice scenery. Bugs, especially butterflies, populated the garden. Plenty of flowers were growing everywhere. Obi-Wan found a bench to sit on in the middle of the room and entered a light meditation (because there couldn’t be a better time on their vacation to do so). 

The last time he meditated was when he was on Kreeling, and he wouldn’t consider that a true meditation because he was only using it to keep track of Idas’ pursuer. The last true time he meditated was on Outland, and it wasn’t very deep. The last time he meditated like a Jedi was when he was on Hoth. Even though his goal wasn’t to rely on meditation, he felt it was definitely allowed today since the whole point of a spa day was to relax. He wouldn’t allow himself to release his emotions into the Force but the very least he could do was acknowledge his feelings and take advantage of the spa’s atmosphere. 

The atmosphere of the spa was serene. He could detect the life signatures of several others in the building (overlooking the critters near him), easily able to detect Jango still in the previous room. He wasn’t worried about being in danger so he let his guard lower some, breathing slower and turning to emotions. 

All of his emotions were calm. The spa was doing a good job of that. He was feeling at peace and his shoulder was only a little sore from getting disrupted. It felt like he was in the mindset of a Jedi (because of how calm he was) but the undertones of happiness and his enjoyment spoke otherwise. Something that set him apart from the Jedi. 

He dared to let his mind wander to other’s emotional states. Jango’s masseuse was feeling dutiful, maybe even a bit stressed. Emme was a bit worried but otherwise in a clear headspace. Elne was fairly blank because she was running numbers in her office. Jango had moved but if Obi-Wan focused hard enough… 

Obi-Wan was pulled from his meditation when a body sat next to him, pressed against his side on the one-person bench. His eyes shot open to view Jango next to him. He radiated affection and a sense of yearning… Obi-Wan had to actively use the Force to stop his face from turning red. 

“Old injury?” Jango questioned, blissfully unaware of his companion knowing his emotions. 

Obi-Wan spoke with a suddenly-dry mouth. “Yeah.” 

“Is it specific? Something _I_ should also know about?” 

There were no direct memories of his old shoulder injury. He didn’t remember how exactly it all happened. It happened through a dislocation, but he couldn’t remember whether it happened on Ryloth or through training with Kencha or Qui-Gon. 

“I don’t remember how it happened, but it sometimes slides out of place. It returns to its position just fine. My shoulder simply shifted earlier. Shouldn’t be anything to worry about.” 

“Shouldn’t be anything to worry about _right now_ but I’ll have to worry about it during training and on jobs.” 

Obi-Wan sighed and gave Jango a withering look. “Just because it’ll dislocate doesn’t mean you should go easy on me. If it dislocates, put it back in place and continue. I don’t want it holding me back because if it was a real-life situation, we would be able to stop in the middle of a fight and nurse it back to health. Trust me on this?” 

Jango returned the look with a bit more heat. “Tell me the shoulder and I’ll agree.” 

Tell him so he knows which side is weaker and which to avoid more often… “Right shoulder.” 

“There, not so hard.” 

Obi-Wan rolled his eyes dramatically before facing forward. He couldn’t resume his meditation (he wasn’t sure if he even wanted to) now that Jango was with him again. 

“What’s the next treatment?” he asked. 

“All I know is that they brought us here to wind down. We still have time to spend in the pool and sauna, facials to get done, and lunch to eat. According to Roz’s schedule, we’ll be out of here late afternoon or evening.”

They sat around until Emme came to retrieve them. She carried several towels in her arms and guided them to the pool room. She set the towels down on a table when they arrived and motioned toward the pool. 

“All to yourselves. You’ll get a standard hour to use the facilities. Someone will come to retrieve you for lunch,” she explained before leaving them. 

Obi-Wan looked around the room and grimaced. They had privacy, the one-way windows made sure, but he wasn’t a fan of what the candles sitting on the tables insinuated. The overhead lights were also dimmed, despite it being the middle of the day, leaving the candles and lights inside the bodies of water (the pool and hot tub) to be the main sources of light. 

“Do you even know how to swim?” Jango teased. 

Obi-Wan scowled with purpose at the other man. “Yes.” He approached the wall containing the hot tub controls and activated them before slipping his robe off and into the water smoothly. He was aware of Jango’s eyes on him the entire time, even as the man joined him in the water. 

“It doesn’t hurt to make sure. Not everyone knows how to swim.” His voice was soft and Obi-Wan almost felt bad, but he knew the other man had the potential to turn their pool time into a lesson about swimming. 

“So, how do you know how to swim?” 

“I just do. Everyone was taught how to at young ages.” Obi-Wan shifted so he was sitting in front of one of the jets and sank into the water so the bubbles were almost at his chin. “How do _you_ know how to swim?” 

“My _buir_ taught me in the lakes by my old home.” Somehow Obi-Wan had a hard time picturing it but he knew Jango wasn’t lying. A miniature Jango, probably a head full of curls (judging by the state of his inch-or-so tight curls without getting cut in over a month before he convinced Roz to trim it during the Festival of Life), getting taught to swim on Concord Dawn. Maybe not Concord Dawn considering Jango said he was an orphan, but it was Obi-Wan’s only guess when he knew it to be Jango’s homeworld. 

“Any interesting stories from learning?” 

Jango shrugged. “My _buir_ taught me by throwing me in. You learn pretty quickly when you’re in the middle of a body of water that your feet can’t touch the bottom.” The shock must have shown on Obi-Wan’s face, so Jango continued, “This was my blood- _buir_. Farmer through-and-through. It was probably the way he was taught, too.” 

“Doesn’t make it any less traumatizing.” 

Jango made a noncommittal noise and also shifted to a position to make himself more comfortable. 

They sat in the hot tub until a silent timer went off and the bubbles stopped. Obi-Wan slowly climbed out to approach the pool. He heard Jango move behind him, near-silent. Obi-Wan began to turn to look at the other man but he felt something curl around his back and he was suddenly moving toward the pool. Of course, it was Jango. The ex-Jedi had enough time to suck in some air and hold his breath before he plunged into the water with the _Mand’alor_ holding on. 

They separated in the water. Obi-Wan didn’t resurface right away, but when he did, he pushed his hair out of his face, rubbed the water out of his eyes, and glared daggers at Jango. For extra effect, he splashed water toward the other man. 

“ _Sheb_ ,” he grumbled and watched the delight glow on Jango’s face after hearing him speak in _Mando’a_. 

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Jango hummed, submerging in the water up to his shoulders and swimming lazily toward Obi-Wan. 

Obi-Wan splashed water in his direction again but with less feeling. “You do.” 

“Yep.” 

They swam in circles around each other nonchalantly and chatted about nothing noteworthy. Their swimming was nearly mirrored perfectly. They faced each other, swam at the same speed, and were submerged to their chins. Obi-Wan wasn’t sure why they were doing it but the reason for his submersion was because he didn’t want the marred skin on his back displayed. Maybe that was Jango’s thought process too. However, it didn’t stop Jango from trying to wrestle Obi-Wan in the water later. All Obi-Wan could do to defend himself was wildly claw and kick at Jango but the man’s larger body mass made it impossible to escape any dunking attempts. 

Their day at the spa was a success. After they swam, they ate light finger foods for lunch. The sauna was next, so they sat in an oppressively humid room with their towels around their waists and waited with desperation for the time to be up. Next were the facials. They each received a facial massage before some sort of clay was spread across their faces and they were each placed in a mud bath in the same room and were told to not move their facial muscles at all. That, of course, led to Jango disobeying and being as obnoxious as possible by attempting to make Obi-Wan’s blank face break. 

At the moment, Obi-Wan was very entertained by Jango’s attempts. He felt the clay on his face crack several times from fighting a grin (even despite the fact that they were submerged in mud, both naked in their tubs, was an alarming thought at the back of his head the entire time). The clay on Jango’s face was already cracking before it completely dried, but it didn’t appear to bother him. No, all he cared about was trying to get Obi-Wan to yield under the pressure. He finally got Obi-Wan to smile when the ex-Jedi’s clay was dried (and they would probably get it cleaned off soon anyway), but it faded fast when Obi-Wan felt dread in the Force suddenly. It was coming from _him_ but he didn’t know why or how he was feeling it so strongly and why it was so disconnected from himself. It caused his eyes to glaze over and he refused to look at Jango again until they took showers and were leaving the spa. 

Jango didn’t pry for an explanation on the change and Obi-Wan was grateful for that. He didn’t think he would be able to explain himself and he didn’t want to try. 

Their appointment was finished late afternoon, They stopped by a small food stand selling wraps and bought themselves an early supper before they returned to their hotel room. They went through their usual nightly routines and turned in early for bed in their new position of pressing their backs together (something Obi-Wan had a feeling wouldn’t prove to be fruitful with stopping his squirming when he dreams). 

And unfortunately, he dreamed again. _Maul wasn’t there but there was a chill over his entire body. He found himself standing in some sort of ornate hall. A Mandalorian-esque hall, judging by the paintings of armored Mandalorians in battle on the close walls. They were seeking and receiving glory. He didn’t recognize the place. He was either leeching off Jango somehow and experiencing a memory, having a creative dream, or possibly receiving a vision. Or maybe Maul was still going to show up._

_His feet began walking, taking him down a vibrant blue carpet and bringing him around a corner to almost collide with a Mandalorian. A Mandalorian in armor that was a shade of silver lighter than Jango’s but also accented with blues. Their shoulder pauldrons were yellow, the one on their right shoulder decorated with a blue mythosaur. A matching blue cape was attached somewhere beneath that same pauldron._

_Another Mandalorian appeared over the other’s shoulder. This one was in a deep gold-brass set, and they were taller than the first. The accents on their armor were red, and they also wore a matching cape. Their shoulder pauldrons were red and their left shoulder had a white mythosaur painted on it above their cape._

_A sense of recognition entered Obi-Wan’s mind despite never seeing either of them. The one in silver, taller than him by several inches but still so much shorter than their companion, looked at Obi-Wan as if awaiting an order. Their expectancy shone through their black T-shaped visor. What would_ Mandalorians _ever need from_ Obi-Wan _?_

_The taller Mandalorian began to speak, a low sound that Obi-Wan had no hopes of distinguishing in his sleep. However, one word was clear. “Kryze.” It stole Obi-Wan’s breath away and then it was over._

A crushing weight was on top of Obi-Wan. It was hard to breathe so he attempted to move to escape but to no avail. “Jango,” he managed. 

Jango rolled off him right away, alleviating the weight. “Stop squirming.” 

“I was squirming because you were on top of me!” 

“I was on top of you because you were squirming.” 

Obi-Wan dropped his head into his pillow and rolled away from Jango to be as far away on his side of the bed. He crossed his arms and stared at the dark scenery of Juranno. Why couldn’t he just sleep through the night? 

“Why do you squirm so much? Do you need to visit a doctor for a sleep analysis?” 

“No,” Obi-Wan mumbled. Jango shifted. “My mind is overactive in my sleep.” 

“So wouldn’t you rather get help instead of struggling to stay asleep? Roz can get sleep medication for you. Do you have issues sleeping _every_ night?” 

Obi-Wan reached down to pull the covers back up, promptly ignoring Jango. The other man didn’t seem to take well to that. A foot was planted on his lower back and pushed him over the side of the bed. Yet, before he went completely off, his nearest wrist was grabbed and the man who attempted to send him over the side of the bed was the reason he was still on it. 

Obi-Wan glared at Jango. He would have accepted falling to the floor. It was better than trying to explain his sleeping habits. 

“We still have to spend two more days together on this planet. Don’t be trying my patience _now_ ,” Jango growled coldly. 

“Then please respect me when I say this: I don’t want to talk about what I dream about or how long I’ve had disruptive sleep.” 

“Even though you know talking about it helps.” 

“Yes.” Obi-Wan was certain of his words and his own cold exterior. 

Jango looked at him with soft, judgemental eyes but he conceded. “You apparently know best.” He laid down on his side close to the center of the bed with his back to Obi-Wan. It took a very short time for him to fall asleep, leaving Obi-Wan still in an awkward position on the edge of the bed watching the Mandalorian. 

If Obi-Wan didn’t know any better, he would say Jango almost looked hurt. Hurt that he was rejected for offering a shoulder to cry on after dreams? That was Obi-Wan’s only explanation but Jango’s not the type that likes to talk about dreams and emotions. He’s a closed book. He’s no Jedi but Obi-Wan likes to think the _Mand’alor_ is the type to _discourage_ emotions so he doesn’t have to deal with them and the messes they can create. Even though Jango comforted him after his recent nightmare on _Jaster’s Legacy_ he refused to believe the other man would be willing to compromise his self-image by comforting another grown man after some troubling dreams. 

It left a strange feeling in Obi-Wan’s chest. A feeling that shouldn’t be acknowledged until he has the privacy to dissect and understand it. A feeling that he, perhaps, wished he didn’t know what it meant. 

Getting over himself, Obi-Wan joined Jango in the center of the bed. Instead of pressing their backs together he faced Jango’s back and curled up so his face pointed toward the dip of the mattress. His head would definitely ache in the morning should Jango decide to roll over on it but he believed the man had enough sense in his sleep to not… 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> fun news. went through my notes because the chapter i'm currently working on had stuff in there that i needed. reduced my about 48 pages to about 36 after cleaning some other things up. feels good. also wrote that chapter in a day. feels even better. just wanted to share that. 
> 
> Translations:  
> buir - father or mother; parent  
> sheb - ass


	20. Chapter 20

Obi-Wan thought the service they were going through to rent the boats would be busier but he supposed, since Juranno is an artistic city and the scenery along the Juran River wasn’t guaranteed to be tame, the activity of the agency was probably normal. Or maybe it was because Roz rented out an entire time slot so they wouldn’t be bothered by others when they were on the water. Yeah, maybe that was it… 

In the morning, Jango almost squashed Obi-Wan’s head in the process of stretching after he woke up like Obi-Wan estimated what would happen (with Jango being aware enough to not wholly rollover). They got started by eating their first meal, changing into their tourist attire (but swim trunks instead of their shorts), took some towels out of their room, and went searching for some drinks and healthy snacks they would be able to consume while boating. They arrived at the rental agency not far from the time Roz advised them to show up. The workers there gave them guidance for their day, directed them to the boat they would use, and they started down the Juran River. 

The water and sky were clear, and Obi-Wan was briefly worried about burns he knows he’ll receive. He instead decided to turn his attention to the sights and Jango’s rowing (since he was so adamant about rowing first to take the opportunity away from Obi-Wan completely). So Obi-Wan looked over the side of the boat and down at the fish and other critters in the water and looked into the approaching trees for birds. The channel wasn’t spruced up like what was suggested the other day, thankfully. 

Jango let the water carry them at some points and rowed when the current wasn’t very strong. They floated through the meadow, and in the direction of the trees cutting off the meadows outside of Juranno completely. The woods ahead looked dark and almost ominous. Obi-Wan wasn’t sure what wild animals lived on the planet, and therefore didn’t know if there would be anything to greet them there. He wasn’t scared since he was a trained Jedi and mercenary. Though, he and Jango didn’t have weapons on them so they were a bit vulnerable… 

“Are you going to let me row at all?” Obi-Wan asked when he got tired of trying to spot the birds he could hear. 

“I’m having fun,” Jango replied. 

“So you’re going to not let me experience it, too?” 

Jango gave him a sincere apologetic look out of the blue. “If you want to that badly. I thought you would rather enjoy the sights.” 

Obi-Wan looked around them. They were on a stretch of the river where there was dense foliage on both sides. If there were creatures beyond it and in the trees, they didn’t want to be seen. All of the fish and critters in the water were the same type as before. There wasn’t anything new to look at and he hoped he got the message to Jango through his pointed stare. 

“How long until Lir Lakir?” Jango wondered. 

“Several hours of which we don’t have if we want to make it back to the hotel room with enough time to get around so we make our meal reservation.” The schedule Roz made for them was pretty much engraved into the ex-Jedi’s brain now. In his opinion, this was their most poorly planned day. They could follow the river all the way to Lir Lakir and thus be late to their _very expensive_ reservation. It was Roz’s credits on the line but Obi-Wan didn’t want to waste them all because they lost track of time (even though he was pretty sure he nor Jango really wanted to be eating an expensive meal together in public. They have been surviving on room service and snacks). 

“That’s a shame. I hear Belleau-a-Lir looks really nice at night.” Obi-Wan couldn’t stop the incredulous bark of laughter upon hearing Jango’s accent alter the Alderaanian city’s name casually. It wasn’t quite the right pronunciation but it also wasn’t too far off. Jango scowled at him in turn. Obi-Wan grinned back. It was adorable. 

His eyes widened and he tried to clear his mind after the thought popped into his head. The other man noticed his rapid appearance change so he spoke, “Yes, that’s what others were saying at the gallery.” 

Jango stared at him skeptically but remained silent. He pulled the oars through the water aggressively for one stroke to emphasize what he thought about Obi-Wan’s excuse. Their personalities have a way of clashing at times and right now it seemed like it was happening. 

Obi-Wan crossed his arms and glowered at Jango before he turned away to look at the trees. 

The air between them was tense for a time. Jango’s irritation faded as he rowed and that calmed Obi-Wan down in turn. 

They docked the boat in a cove after there was a break in the trees. The water was much calmer here, allowing them to get off the boat and drag it onto the sandy shore. It was obviously a place to stop and camp because there were secured picnic tables in a little plaza. They grabbed their snacks and drinks from the boat and went to sit down. 

“Your skin’s _hettir_ ,” Jango commented, motioning with his energy bar toward Obi-Wan’s face. 

“I can feel it,” Obi-Wan murmured. His skin got a respite from the sun once they were under the trees but he was still exposed at times. Like now, the cove wasn’t shaded by the trees and they were sitting in the direct sunlight. The sun hit him mostly when they were leaving the rental agency and in the meadow. They would have to go through all that again on their way back. 

“It hurt yet?” 

“Stings.” 

Jango raised an eyebrow and ate the last of his energy bar before grabbing a small pack of cookies. “It’s only going to get worse…” 

Obi-Wan mirrored Jango’s expression and reached across the table to steal a cookie before he grabbed the only packet of fruit snacks. The _Mand’alor_ watched him critically yet surprisingly let him get away with stealing part of his food. 

They ate their snacks languidly, enjoying the silence of the wilderness around them. Eventually, they kicked off everything except their swim trunks and took a dip in the water. Obi-Wan was very aware he was exposing himself to the sun even more but at this point, it didn’t matter. Might as well try to make sure it wasn’t just his head and neck to get burnt and everything else stays milky pale. 

Their swimming wasn’t as rough as how they swam in the spa. In fact, both men didn’t pay much attention to each other. Obi-Wan went off to swim along the floor of the cove, he wasn’t sure about Jango. He found a few empty shells but left them be. The fish scurried away when he got near (he definitely would have been able to catch them using the Force if Jango wasn’t near). After being under for a while, he resurfaced to inhale deeply. 

Jango was floating on his back nearby. “You’re good at holding your breath,” he remarked. 

“Air control,” Obi-Wan answered a bit breathlessly as he extended his arms and treaded water toward the other man. He glanced up at the sky. “We should get moving. It looks midday and we need time to clean up before our meal.” 

Jango was looking at him from the corner of his eye. Obi-Wan pushed his hair out of his face self consciously. 

“If you’re sure.” 

“I may not _want_ to but Roz would be disappointed.” 

“Keep the queen happy,” Jango sighed. He went underwater briefly. Obi-Wan followed him to the shore. They got the towels out to dry off. The fabric against his skin stung. His shoulders, which weren’t even exposed for that long, were also burnt now! 

Clothed again, they pushed the boat back into the water, but Jango retook the oars. Obi-Wan was about to protest but Jango beat him to it. “Keep a towel on your head. Just try not to get burnt anymore.” Obi-Wan stared at him stubbornly, the Mandalorian continued, “For your own health, please do it. You’ll be complaining about the pain later and I won’t hear the end of it.” 

Begrudgingly Obi-Wan draped a towel over his head and tried to cover the rest of his body with the other. It made him a bit uncomfortable since they were damp and the temperature made him sweat, but he’d take momentary discomfort over a worse sunburn that will last several days. 

They arrived back at the rental agency in about the same it took for them to reach the cove. They gave Obi-Wan strange looks when he stepped out of the boat with their hotel room towels wrapped around him. Jango did most of the talking, trying to keep all the attention on him (bless him), but his approach wasn’t foolproof. At least they left soon after the boat was returned and forms were signed. 

Back in their hotel room, they took turns getting showers to freshen up. Obi-Wan took his first and was able to put on his nice outfit before heading to the main room to chill and wait for Jango to also be finished. And, Obi-Wan had to admit, his ensemble of blacks was probably a bit oppressive. He looked in the mirror at himself and winced. The buttons and thin designs were the only sparkly things on him. 

Jango emerged soon, wearing his nice clothes. He looked vaguely uncomfortable as he adjusted the collar of his shirt. His eyes landed on Obi-Wan and roved over his body longer than what may be considered proper. 

“Black looks good on you.” 

Obi-Wan was itchy from his sunburns and his face was already red, so a blush or awkwardness from the compliment didn't have to be blamed on the compliment. “And blue and silver on you, but those are your colors so you already know.” 

“They look good on you, too,” Jango commented offhandedly. He moved toward the kitchenette where his datapad has been the whole morning. “We need to be leaving soon. Are you ready?” 

He had to put his boots on. “I need to put my boots on.” 

“Then go put your boots on.” Jango’s boots were already on and still without their _beskar_ attachments. 

Obi-Wan went to the bedroom to put his boots on. The only well-worn and familiar part of his outfit. He went back out to the main room and couldn’t help but blurt, “Would you mind putting some braids in my hair?” His hair was combed and looked fine but it felt like he was missing something… 

Jango looked at him with wide eyes and nodded sharply. 

They returned to the bedroom so Obi-Wan could grab the clips for securing the braids in place. Jango instructed him to sit on the bench at the foot of the bed and began his work quickly. Obi-Wan felt his hands trembling slightly but he still braided with confidence and crafted them perfectly and with no fly-aways. He ended up making two braids on each side of Obi-Wan’s head starting at his temples, clipping them in place where they disappeared under the rest of Obi-Wan’s hair. 

“There,” Jango breathed with some excitement. “Your hair looks tame for the first time since knowing you.” 

Obi-Wan got to his feet, smirking at the _Mand’alor_. Probably, considering he shaved off his rattail before he left Coruscant and remained with a head of fluffy hair that made him look like the fiery redhead he was commonly labeled as around the Temple. He has been growing out his hair ever since. Though, as it grew, his hair still didn’t want to cooperate and liked to stick up in different directions at the start of most days. And thanks to Jango, who always had shaving supplies and probably shaved every morning cycle, he was able to keep his face groomed. 

Jango nodded at him curtly and led the way to the elevator so they could make it to their reservation. Obi-Wan took note of Jango’s jitteriness and stored it for meditating later… 

The restaurant wasn’t too far from the spa they went to the day before. Juranno was a city decorated through and through but this part of the city was definitely one of the more expensive areas. The people who walked on the paths wore beautiful clothes and the sights were as ornate as what people wore. The streets and sidewalks were all clean to the point of sparkling in the evening light. Sculptures were on almost every street corner, and practically every street lamp was also some sort of art piece. Obi-Wan wouldn’t say it was overkill but maybe it was a bit unnecessary and would actually benefit from some conformity. After all, the naked people holding the lights were a bit much. 

The restaurant they were eating at was probably the most ornate building they have seen yet. While the art gallery and music hall were modest and simple, the restaurant was gaudy and almost an eyesore. A short overhang protected the door and the lights, inside and outside, gave the building a goldish tint. 

Jango held the door open for Obi-Wan, entering after him and approaching the host to sign in. 

It was dark inside. The flooring was a mixture of black wood and maroon carpets. The circular tables were made of the same type of wood as the floor. A few lights lit the waiting area but the dining areas were worse. The tables were the only sources of light, each containing several candles. Obi-Wan felt bad for the servers. They had to basically feel their way to the tables, rely on memory, and pray not to trip over anything. 

The young man behind the podium confirmed it was them and summoned a server, who was there in seconds. Their server grabbed two menus and brought them to one of the dining areas. She set the menus down at the table and pulled out a datapad while they were in the process of sitting. 

Jango approached the table first and pulled out one of the chairs without sitting on it. Obi-Wan began to move past him to the other seat but Jango’s hand shot out to grip his forearm, stopping Obi-Wan in his tracks. 

“Sit here,” he commanded softly. 

Obi-Wan stared at him awkwardly. After a light tug on his arm, he moved hesitantly and sat on the seat. Jango then proceeded to the other seat. Their server smiled at them and Obi-Wan had to look away bashfully, embarrassed by his stupidity. Though, he was still sunburnt so his skin was not revealing him. 

“Hello, I am Cecelia and I will be your server for this meal. I hope you two are having a pleasant evening. Your reservation says you would prefer the getaway dinner but that can be changed until it is time to order food,” she explained. 

Jango sighed, refraining from opening the menu. “What does that entail?” 

“You choose your beverage. The main meal is some of the juiciest nerf you will ever have, raised by the most renowned farmer on the planet, with a salad containing locally grown vegetables and fruits and a cup of grassroot stew on the side.” 

Alderaan wasn’t known for its farming, so the nerf couldn’t be the best in the galaxy and that had to be why Cecelia didn’t say that. As for the stew and salad… if they were local and the restaurant was selling them confidently, then it was edible. 

Obi-Wan shrugged when Jango looked at him. “Beats fish.” 

“Fine.” Jango opened the menu to look at the drinks. “Would it be possible to get the black membrosia and, if we finish it, a second bottle before we leave?” 

Cecelia smiled like she was just told a naughty childhood secret. “Sure thing! I will put in your order and will be back soon with your drinks and some rolls!” She effortlessly snatched the menus from them and whisked away. She returned minutes later with a basket of bread rolls, two glasses, and a dark bottle then left again. 

Jango grabbed the bottle and filled their glasses, meanwhile, Obi-Wan spoke lowly, “Black membrosia is only available through the black market. Are you sure it was a good idea to order it and make that special request?” 

Jango shrugged nonchalantly as he raised his glass to his lips and downed a few swallows. He wasn’t finished but he lowered his glass to stare at the dark liquid. “We’re just normal citizens here, how are we supposed to know that? If they’re selling it then they acquired it legally or else they would have been shut down for it long ago.” 

True… but Obi-Wan was still hesitant. The restaurant must have a legal supplier or they make it themselves because he was positive the drink is still on the black market. It didn’t make him feel good about the drink’s effects but he grabbed his glass and tried it. It burned his nostrils going down, not in a bad way like it was spicy. Overall it was sweet but the alcohol content of it had to be high. 

“It’s strong,” he commented as he reached forward to grab a roll to butter and eat. 

Jango made a small noise of agreement and finished his glass, pouring himself another but slowed down a bit. 

“So what are we doing tomorrow?” Obi-Wan asked after swallowing a bite of his bread. 

“Get back into some exercising. We’ll have gone an entire week without any sort of workouts and meals with unknown nutritional values. We probably have a few pounds to lose…” Jango later lamented, “Though you either didn’t gain anything or you’ll exercise tomorrow and lose anything beneficial that you did gain.” 

“I’m not out of shape.” 

“I didn’t say that,” Jango corrected. He leaned forward, a new intensity about him. “You’re only lean muscles, you’re not gaining any fat or any extra muscles. Your metabolism is too high. Heavy weights are a challenge to you but your body refuses to gain weight or muscle to combat them. I don’t get it.” He leaned his elbow on the table and rested his chin on his fist. 

Obi-Wan shrugged. “Ok, so we’re exercising tomorrow. What else?” 

“Relax. I have the materials to make a blanket so I’ll probably do that,” Jango mumbled, trying to cover up what he said with another drink. But Obi-Wan heard it and he grinned brightly, excited to see Jango’s work. Jango glared at him in return. 

They minded their own business for a bit. Jango drank another glass of his drink and Obi-Wan finished his first so Jango poured them both another. Jango also tried the rolls when Obi-Wan was buttering himself another one. He appeared to like them, he finished it but didn’t go for another and instead grabbed his drink again. 

“Have you thought about any questions I have posed lately?” 

Obi-Wan looked at Jango with genuine confusion, requesting a further explanation. 

“Are you staying in contact with Roz when your training is complete? Do you want to continue doing jobs with me? Have you thought at all about any culture changes…?” 

It was Obi-Wan’s turn to frown, and he did it with displeasure. “Is it a good idea to bring up topics that could turn heated in public?” 

“They’re not controversial!” Jango started heatedly. He took a second to compose himself. “I just want a clear answer. Are you planning to stick around once I think you’re capable of protecting yourself or are you going off to pave your own way? That, and do you still want to discuss cultural changes?” 

“I’m not talking about becoming a Mandalorian today.” Obi-Wan watched the muscles in Jango’s face tighten, hurt shining in his eyes. He felt bad for some reason, probably because he felt like he was dismissing the man. “But, I thought I said before, I’m planning to stick around.” 

“I remember.” Jango was quieter than usual. “I’m repeating myself to see if your answers would match, see if you changed your mind.” 

“Do you still not trust me?” 

Obi-Wan ruined the atmosphere with one stupid question. They were on this stupid vacation because of a lack of trust… He felt the storm of emotions around Jango through the Force. He groaned and hung his head. 

“I’m sorry. My mouth acted before my brain could stop it.” 

“Drink your membrosia.” 

The air was a tad bit tense around them. Obi-Wan was a bit more sensitive to it than Jango was—probably because of the Force—but they didn’t have to suffer through it for very long. Their food was brought out by Cecelia and another server. They were asked if there was anything else they needed, they didn’t, so the servers left. 

The nerf was juicy. It was a steak finely cooked, not too done and not raw. Probably just right. The salad was a salad, with optional dressings they would put on. The stew wasn’t very heavy and contained light ingredients so your stomach wasn’t completely full by the time you ate everything. Overall it was a good meal. Was it worth the price of just the reservation? No, not in Obi-Wan’s opinion. The atmosphere was all right and the membrosia was good but _ne'tra gal_ was better. However, neither of them could probably replicate the meal realistically so that was something. 

But still… was it worth it? Not really… 

Roz paid for the meal ahead of time but Jango had to buy the second black membrosia he requested with his own credits. Before leaving, they finished off the first black membrosia and rolls. 

Obi-Wan was feeling pleasantly sated and warm by the time they were walking out of the restaurant. His and Jango’s sides were nearly pressed together as they walked, hands constantly brushing against each other. Jango’s hand on the opposite side was occupied by a fancy bag containing their alcohol. Maybe Obi-Wan’s head was a little foggy from the amount of alcohol he consumed and with little to no filtration with the Force, but he still had his wits about him. 

They walked their way back to their hotel. Obi-Wan took his turn in the refresher first, deciding to take a bath. He went under the water to wash his face but didn’t wash his hair so he didn’t have to remove his braids. Then he went on to scrub his skin, taking long pauses due to him aggravating his own skin. 

Eventually, Jango knocked on the door and let himself in. Obi-Wan gathered the bubbles around him and threw a dirty look at the Mandalorian but the other man advanced toward him without a care. He held a bright bottle in his hand. 

“Found this. Thought you might be interested in it.” 

Aloe. Obi-Wan squinted at the writing. It would probably feel good on his burns… “That’s nice.” 

Jango motioned toward him. “Want me to put it on?” 

Obi-Wan was nodding before he actually made a decision. 

That led to Jango kneeling next to the tub, rubbing the clear lotion into the younger man’s skin. Obi-Wan had his knees pulled up to his chest and was hugging them. He had his back to Jango and buried his face between his knees, doing his best to control his discomfort through breathing exercises. Don’t get him wrong, Jango was trying to be gentle and the aloe felt good on his skin, but the aloe didn’t take effect right away. He had to sit through his skin getting touched by someone other than himself (and of course it had to be the expanse of skin that was the most scarred), possibly aggravating it even more. 

He eventually turned, collecting more bubbles around him, so Jango could apply aloe to his face and chest where he also ended up a bit burnt. 

“Braids are still in,” Jango commented. 

“I’m aware,” Obi-Wan replied, and his nose wrinkled in response to Jango’s awry expression. 

Jango finished up and left the ‘fresher. Obi-Wan emptied the tub and stepped out of it to dry off and get dressed so he could get some sleep. He dressed in his sleep clothes, his shirt was sticking to him a bit uncomfortably due to the aloe so he took that off and entered the bedroom. 

Jango smirked at him knowingly, eyes on the ex-Jedi’s bare torso. “Good choice.” 

Obi-Wan ignored the comment in favor of settling on his front in bed while Jango was in the refresher. Though, Jango was only in there for a couple of minutes since he jumped into the shower for a quick rinse. 

Settling for sleep was a bit complicated. Obi-Wan only wanted to sleep on his front and not touch anything (even the sheets) but at the same time wanted to press against Jango in an attempt to find salvation against his dreams (but he would rather attempt to retell how he got every scar on his body than admit that out loud). Jango was trying to be patient but his drowsiness was apparent. He fell asleep on his back, one arm stretched toward Obi-Wan and the other behind his head on the pillows. 

Flattering. Obi-Wan smiled thinly to himself and settled close to Jango, allowing their legs to touch but stopping there. He pulled the sheets up around them and settled a few inches below Jango’s outstretched arm and fell asleep as soon as he allowed his eyes to stay closed. 

Obi-Wan had drooled in his sleep. He wasn’t afraid to admit that he sometimes did it. It was just less pleasant this morning since he didn’t move all night and was face-down in it. He got over his disgust, stretched, and rotated to his side to look in the direction of his companion. 

Jango was awake, if barely. He was on his side, using his arm as a pillow and watching Obi-Wan placidly. “ _Jate vaar’tur,_ _tranyc_."

His voice was husky so he clearly just woke up. It caused Obi-Wan to blink—mind blank—because he was rendered speechless. It had to be the first time he has heard Jango sound like _that_. His cheeks started to gain temperature so he willed himself to wake up a bit more and sat up. Jango’s eyes followed him as he pushed himself up and swung his legs over the side of the bed, his red back facing the other man. 

“Morning,” he returned. 

“Maybe alcohol is what you need before bed. You slept like an _ik’aad_ last night.” Jango groaned as he stretched and his body popped in several places. 

“I’d prefer to not dull my senses in favor of staying asleep.” 

“Just a little bit won’t incapacitate you.” 

Obi-Wan went to the refresher to do his morning hygiene care and to apply more aloe to his sunburns while Jango climbed out of bed to order them their first meal. Jango eventually joined him to assist with applying the lotion to his back. Once Obi-Wan’s skin was shiny with the lotion, he changed his utility pants and button-up floral shirt (forgoing the shirt until the lotion was dried), and went to wait for their food to arrive while Jango took his turn in the refresher. By the time their food arrived, he had his shirt on and Jango was rejoining him in the main room. 

Their meal was a bit heavier than what they had previous mornings. It meant they had to find something to do while they waited for their food to settle. It led them to lounging on the main sofa and watching a documentary about the rich history of Alderaan. It was not entertaining but everything else was even worse. Their top options were the documentary, the weather, or dramas (and Roz’s favorite genre to watch when the boys were on Outland with her was drama so they would get enough of that the next time they return to Outland). 

When their food was finally settled, Jango changed into his base layer and Obi-Wan took off his shirt (because it limited his movements greatly) to get ready for exercise. They started off with stretches together then separated to do little individual activities. Obi-Wan focused on balance activities, core workouts, and then conditioning for his arm muscles. Jango did similar things but didn’t do anything for balance, instead focusing on activities for helping strengthen muscles. 

When they were both warmed up and buzzing with energy, they sparred. Jango had an aggressive approach right off the bat. He lunged toward Obi-Wan as if he had a bloodlust. Obi-Wan was forced to dodge and sidestep everything, trying to keep Jango at a distance but unable to keep it up. The other man was dead-set on ambushing Obi-Wan and making their spar miserable. 

Obi-Wan was getting forced to stay moving so much. The small boost he was taking from the Force wasn’t enough to completely keep him going. His body was covered with a sheen of sweat and his muscles were beginning to burn. Jango was also beginning to show the strain he was experiencing, judging by the sweat formed on his brow. 

And it ended in seconds. Obi-Wan, with his burning legs, slid because he momentarily couldn’t summon the energy to keep his feet moving. Jango collided with him and was able to capture him in a headlock. To finalize his victory, he slapped the younger man’s shoulder—right on the sunburn—with an open palm. Obi-Wan bit back an objection and swung at Jango wildly until he was released and let himself slump to the floor. 

“And that’s why you need more meat on your bones,” Jango said matter-of-factly as he reached down to pull Obi-Wan up before walking toward the bedroom. 

Needless to say, they both washed up after. Obi-Wan had to remove his braids so he could wash the sweat out of his hair. 

They eventually went back to the main couch but this time with the supplies they bought at the craft store. Obi-Wan watched Jango begin to start on his project. When the man gave him a grating look, he looked down at his fake flowers and started to twine the thick stems together. 

By the time midday rolled around, Obi-Wan had one flower crown made and Jango had a section sewn. They paused their activities to have sandwiches for their second meal. They ordered a bottle of wine with their food and decided to eat on the balcony for the first (and probably only) time. There was a slight breeze around them and the air was a bit humid (like it would rain overnight). Overall, it wasn’t a bad experience. The weather-proof table and chairs weren’t the comfiest but they were fine for one meal. 

They went back inside to continue their activities, sharing the bottle of wine while they were at it. Obi-Wan finished two flower crowns of varying colors, placing one on himself and the other on Jango. They were probably the largest crowns he has ever made but that was because he wanted to use all the flowers he bought and the material the flowers were made out of didn’t make it very easy to bend them like organic flower stems did. 

Obi-Wan pulled his datapad out to take a secretive picture of Jango then started browsing the HoloNet to find something to read. 

Jango cleared his throat. “Would you become _Mando_?” Obi-Wan looked at Jango and found brown eyes staring back. “We’re not in public, we can talk about this ‘controversial’ subject now.” 

“Why would I?” 

“Why wouldn’t you?” 

Obi-Wan rolled his eyes at the roundabout conversation. It’ll turn into an argument if they aren’t careful. It was the last thing they needed on their final day of vacation. 

“Is Roz?” 

Jango made a half-half motion with his hand. “She’s an honorary member. She doesn’t wear the armor and is rusty on the language but she follows the other tenets. She’s a member of my family, and I’m _Mand’alor_ , so I say yes.” 

“That’s not fair to others who want to be Mandalorian.” 

“But it’s unfair to deprive my family of being included in my life. You already know the language, I’m sure the other steps of the _Resol’nare_ will come easily to you. You are already closer to becoming _Mando_ than others. Why are you so adamant about not answering?” 

Obi-Wan worried his bottom lip between his teeth for a moment. The main reason was that he didn’t want to give an answer he could regret later. His second reason was that he used to be a Jedi. Jedi and Mandalorians don’t have a good history together, much less _Jango_ and Jedi. But Jango didn’t know he was a Jedi so he couldn’t truly understand. 

“I just don’t understand why you want an answer so badly.” 

Jango squinted, recognizing the deflection and not liking it. “I don’t understand why you won’t give an answer or a reason as to why you won’t answer.” 

Their eyes were locked. Jango’s stare was intense and passionate. Obi-Wan had to look away, releasing an exasperated sigh. He felt bad for not answering Jango. Yet at the same time he didn’t because his inner Jedi was completely against joining the group with a reputation almost as bad as the Sith. Some Mandalorians, and Jango (to an extent), probably wouldn’t have any issues killing him if he revealed his past on the spot. “I haven’t made a decision. It’s not something I can decide in a day. Why does it matter so much?” 

Jango was doing a good job of keeping his face skeptical and otherwise devoid of emotion but Obi-Wan felt the turmoil around him in the Force. He wanted an answer, he was nervous, he was a bit saddened after getting dismissed. Kriff, it made Obi-Wan feel worse… 

“It matters because, according to Roz, you’re family. I want you included.” The emotion in Jango’s eyes intensified. “You could meet my people, wear _beskar’gam_ , be acknowledged as the fearsome warrior you are. Screw your society of swordsmen, the _Mando’ade_ will accept you regardless of genetics, attitude, or skills. We are feared people because we are willing to accept people for what they are and not what they are expected to be.” 

Obi-Wan felt his heart start to pick up speed. Jango inadvertently said Obi-Wan would be accepted as a Jedi. He would be accepted among the Mandalorians regardless of his past and abilities. 

It was also the first time Jango acknowledged Obi-Wan as part of his family. He wasn’t being spurred by Roz to correct himself. The words were his own. 

“I need more time to think about it, Jango, please,” he said quietly. He wasn’t going to cry but his heart was touched with several emotions, some of them not his. It was overwhelming, especially when hurt was shining so clearly in Jango’s eyes. 

“I guess, if you need it.” 

Obi-Wan drank the rest of his share of wine and gave all of his attention to his datapad. He eventually dozed off when he was reading a ‘scientific’ article about the link between fruits and birds. When he woke up, there was a woolen blanket made out of baby blue, lavender, and grey threads thrown over him. He had to blink a couple of times to get his brain working. A bit farther down the couch was Jango, frowning at the blanket and still crocheting. Obi-Wan turned his head to look out the window and realized the sun was setting. He sat up abruptly. Kriffing alcohol… 

“You work fast,” was all Obi-Wan could say. 

“Practice,” Jango replied, monotone. He made some sort of motion and pulled his hooks away from the edge of the blanket. “This is yours.” 

“You made it, it’s yours.” Obi-Wan began to gather the blanket but Jango reached out to stop him swiftly, pointing at the flower crown on his head. 

“I don’t think so.” 

“I made the crowns in a short amount of time and it took you several hours to make this! I can’t take it.” 

Jango sighed and gave the other man a rotten look. “I have plenty from learning. I don’t need this one.” 

That was the end of the argument. Obi-Wan understood well enough. He wouldn’t be able to convince Jango to keep the blanket when it was meant to be a gift and he had several of his own already. 

Obi-Wan was moderately subdued for the remainder of the day. He pulled himself up off the couch and folded his blanket up to put on the bed. Jango was ordering their final meal so Obi-Wan retrieved the treats they bought on their first day planetside. They sat around, eating the treats until their meal of fish and tubers arrived. Included was a bottle of Alderaanian ale. 

“Splurging?” Obi-Wan asked, pointing at the ale. 

Jango gave him a bored look. “You can’t drink on the job so I’m taking the opportunity to now.” 

They ate, finished the ale together, got ready for bed, and went to sleep by the time the sun had set. 

But Obi-Wan couldn’t sleep. He felt tired, the amount of alcohol he consumed during the day made sure of that. So he pretended to be asleep until he knew the other man was asleep. He laid in bed next to Jango, the scent of their soap in his nose and enveloped by warmth from the other man and his new blanket. He stared out the window, his back against Jango’s side. His brain was trying to work, not letting him sleep but also not letting him get ahold of his thoughts. 

Moving slowly, Obi-Wan rolled away from Jango and replaced his spot with his blanket. Jango, in his sleep, hooked his arm around the blanket and squeezed for a moment. Obi-Wan watched for a second longer before he escaped the bedroom and went to the balcony. 

Despite it being the summer, the night air was a bit crisp. It was so much better than the Coruscant air in terms of freshness. It was nice. Alderaan was one of those planets that made Obi-Wan think about retirement. It was one of those planets that had the perfect qualities to spend the last thirty or so years of your life on. 

Obi-Wan approached the railing to lean on and look at the city below. It wasn’t as alive as Coruscant would be but that was partly why it was nice. Coruscant was alive all the time. If you weren’t accustomed to the noise of the planet or didn’t have the proper soundproofing, it was nearly impossible to fall asleep. 

He bowed his head and sighed. Coruscant. He really hated that planet now, didn’t he? He once considered it home. Back when he was a Jedi, he didn’t see much wrong with the planet. It was loud, but you grow accustomed to it. The classes of the planet were obvious but it was like that in tons of other places. The lowest levels were completely forgotten by the planet’s leaders, but wouldn’t you also want to leave whatever was down there alone? 

And back when he was a Jedi, he didn’t have the _Mand’alor_ pining after him. As a Jedi, he wasn’t being asked to become a Mandalorian. As a Jedi, he was allowed to be a Jedi and use the Force without fearing for his life. 

“Why are you awake?” Kriff… 

“Why are _you_ awake?” he retorted smartly. 

Jango approached the railing and leaned on it right next to him, their shoulders basically brushing. He looked at the city for a few seconds then turned his searching stare to Obi-Wan. 

“Can’t sleep,” Obi-Wan murmured. 

“Is this a habit of yours that I’m unaware of?” 

“Waking at improper times to think wistfully?” 

“Finding something to occupy yourself with because you are unable to sleep.” 

“I rely on less sleep than the average person does. My nap probably restored enough of my energy so I don’t even need to sleep tonight.” 

Jango sighed. “I don’t think that’s entirely it. Speak what’s on your mind.” 

“What makes you think your Mandalorians would like me?” Obi-Wan blurted. That was one thought on his mind. Something that may be best kept to himself yet it bothered him too much to keep it in. And it was a good idea to get a sense of what Jango himself was thinking… 

“They have good judges of character.” The _Mand’alor_ shrugged. “They also trust me and know I wouldn’t invite trouble into our ranks.” 

Obi-Wan chuckled breathlessly. Shaking his head, he turned to face forward. The other man sounded naive. Did Jango think so positively of his warriors? His Mandalorians can’t possibly follow him so blindly, could they? Jango wasn’t perfect, there was no chance his True Mandalorians were all obedient little angels. 

“You doubt them?” Jango questioned with some indignance in his voice. 

“No, no. I might doubt their intuition, but I’ll believe they’re as good of people you say they are. You give them cause.” 

Obi-Wan looked at Jango in time to see his face pinched with sadness. “I don’t give them cause. They inspire themselves and are too stubborn to follow anyone else.” 

“I wonder who they get their stubbornness from…” Obi-Wan commented sarcastically. Out of the corner of his eye, he could see Jango giving him a dry look in return. 

“I _abandoned_ them, I don’t deserve their loyalty.” 

“Well, you earned it.” 

Jango was a coil of anger, grief, fear, and longing in the Force. He was honored to be _Mand’alor_ yet hated how the _Mando’ade_ respected him after he apparently abandoned them. He wanted to lead them but was ashamed to face them at the same time. He wanted to reclaim his title properly but didn’t want to be associated with it again after past events. He was just a ball of contradictions… 

Obi-Wan found himself looking toward the mountains. He was thinking about retirement again. Maybe he’ll find himself someplace cold to live. There were definitely fewer people living in cold environments. Any neighbors were sure to leave him alone. He could use the Force to keep him warm at all times and maybe he’ll just wither away and die peacefully in his sleep. He won’t be part of any cultures, there will be no one to rely on him… He’ll be a Force user living alone in the mountains with another new start. No one will ever know he was Obi-Wan Kenobi. Dral Khor will also be dead, and his past will be a mere echo as he slowly wastes away and becomes one with the Force… 

He ran his hands through his hair, feeling stress build in his shoulders. Or maybe he’ll die as a husk of himself because the Force took over his body. He’ll die as a Sith because of his inability to control the Force. He’ll become one of those Force apparitions Jedi younglings are told stories about so they learn to respect the Force and control their feelings (despite the stories giving off the impression that the Force should be feared). With his luck, he’ll get tied to his kyber crystal. A crystal that was beginning to reject him. And then the crystal will be used in some poor soul’s lightsaber, and Obi-Wan will haunt them and tell sob stories about where he went wrong in life and how he fell down his path of misery, suffering, and evil… 

A hand gripped his and pulled it from his head. His breathing, coming from him in short huffs, halted. Fingers intertwined with his and squeezed. 

“Stop thinking so much,” Jango growled. He managed to catch Obi-Wan’s other hand and intertwined those fingers, too. He brought their hands between them, effectively turning the younger man away from the railing. Obi-Wan’s train of thought derailed and he couldn’t tell if he was going to pass out from hyperventilation or asphyxiation. 

“Dral, I need you to work with me here.” His voice was assertive and smooth. He leaned his forehead against Obi-Wan’s experimentally, gently. Obi-Wan leaned into the touch a bit too forcefully, closing his eyes to partly lose track of himself, craving the contact so he can gather the strength to chase away his cursed thoughts (and doing his best to ignore the fact that he was participating in a Keldabe kiss). Jango smelled like spices despite not consuming them and using the same soaps as Obi-Wan. His soft puffs of air barely touched Obi-Wan because the ex-Jedi was breathing too heavily. 

“You need to calm down…” 

“I am,” Obi-Wan bit back. Jango’s hands tightened briefly and that seemed to release much of the tension plaguing Obi-Wan’s shoulders. 

“No, you’re not.” 

Obi-Wan was in the process of getting his breathing back under control and was slowly sagging against Jango. Jango was the first to pull away, releasing their fingers to grip Obi-Wan’s shoulders. 

“Think more or think less, but don’t work yourself dead trying to come up with an answer. I can wait.” 

But he didn’t want to make Jango wait… He knew that if he pressured the Force sufficiently it would give him a solid enough answer. It would be able to tell him if joining the Mandalorians would turn out good or bad. Even though it wasn’t the proper way to treat the Force, he was no longer a Jedi and didn’t have to abide by that thought process. Plus, Jango wanted an answer. There was no doubt about that. He wanted to induct Obi-Wan into the Mandalorians. 

And neither of them fully trusted each other. Obi-Wan didn’t trust Jango enough to reveal his past as a Jedi and Jango clearly hasn’t been entirely transparent. Their dishonesty (if you want to call it that) was an endless cycle. Since Obi-Wan has been obvious about his unclear past (and abilities and other things that sent them on vacation), Jango couldn’t fully trust him with his more buried secrets and own past. Joining the Mandalorians would probably be a helpful step towards getting Jango to trust him but it would also back the ex-Jedi into a corner… 

“Fine,” Obi-Wan replied. 

Jango didn’t look convinced. Nevertheless, he conceded and took a step back awkwardly. “Then let’s go back to bed. We need to leave early tomorrow.” 

Obi-Wan still wasn’t feeling ready for sleep but he had no choice if he didn’t want to lie in bed pretending he was asleep until the sun was rising. He followed Jango to the bedroom and lied down on his back to stare at the ceiling. He felt eyes watching him until his eyelids were too heavy and slowly closing. He didn’t miss the little sigh of relief and subtle shift of blankets next to him. Warmth seeped into his side and he turned to greet it in his sleep. 

They awoke before the sun was cresting the horizon. Obi-Wan quickly rolled out of his position where he was curled against Jango’s side with an arm brushing his shoulders. Jango himself was on his back and cracked his eyes open, alarmed when his arm was run over in the motion. 

Jango’s comlink began to go off so he grabbed it from the bedside table and answered it. Obi-Wan watched cautiously from his side of the bed. 

_“Fett?”_ It was Aurra. 

“Yes?” Jango answered. 

_“Good, you’re awake. I have a job offer that I thought you’d be interested in. Is your pet around?”_

“Not a pet…” 

_“Well if you’d invest in a comm fitted with a holoprojector I wouldn’t have to worry about repeating myself. I would be able to_ see _who is in range, you understand? Is he nearby?”_

“Yes…” 

Aurra made a noise. _“Ok, hot stuff. So he’s your bedmate? I can tell you just woke up. You know, it’s really unfair you bed him before me.”_

Jango cleared his throat to interrupt her. “Tell me the job or I’m hanging up,” he warned. He sounded assertive but Obi-Wan could detect a bit of his abashment. Obi-Wan felt his own cheeks heating up. 

_“_ Relax _. I’m only teasing. You’re so sensitive nowadays…”_ She sighed dramatically but noticeably became more professional. _“A couple senators got together and are offering a job to some of the best bounty hunters. They targeted your acquaintances specifically because I_ think _they wanted you to hear. Bane and I were offered it but Bane is wary of running into you two on the job, don’t tell him I told you that, and he doesn’t want to be bought by political figures. I… this isn’t the type of job for me… It’s a lot more dangerous than what we’re all used to. You might be the only one prepared to handle it since you have Khor following you around, but even then…”_

“What’s the price?” 

_“Well…”_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yo I'm not religious but we were **BLESSED** on Friday. No spoilers but I'm open to privately chatting about it! (No one else I know is as passionate about it as I am... 👉👈)
> 
> Translations:  
> hettir - burnt  
> ne'tra gal - black ale; a sticky ale with a sweet taste  
> Jate vaar’tur, tranyc - "Good morning, sunny" - but sunny literally meaning star-burned in this instance  
> ik'aad - baby, child under 3  
> Mando - Mandalorian  
> Resol'nare - Six Actions, the tenets of Mando life  
> Mando'ade - Mandalorians, the sons and/or daughters of Mandalore  
> kov'nyn - Keldabe kiss; performed with a helmet, it is a Mandalorian headbutt employed to cause injury or used in a gentler capacity between two Mandalorians as an armored greeting (contributing to the "Keldabe kiss" nickname)


	21. Chapter 21

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **Disclaimer/Warning!** This arc contains a theme that can be related to a particular issue going on in the world right now, however, I promise it didn't inspire this. This arc is based on a dream I had. The material in it may be triggering to some. The subject is revealed in the first few paragraphs but it will persist through this chapter and the next. I recommend not reading this arc if you are sensitive to the topic.

At the very least, they would be receiving 50,000 credits. The senators set the price there because there was a very high chance the mercenaries would be receiving even more than that due to how perilous the job is. It was a very alarming sign but Jango pointed out that credits are credits and they are very capable hunters. Some jobs are high-risk but that meant they are high-paying. You can’t go your whole bounty hunting or mercenary career and be successful without taking a dangerous job here and there. Or, according to Jango’s words, these types of jobs are what can help create a name for you. They are what make you… He failed to mention that they can also break you. 

The senators didn’t talk to them directly. When Jango said they were interested in the job, Aurra sounded very nervous suddenly but sent over information about the bounty. The senators must have been alerted of the transaction because an unknown contact sent a message about being glad the news reached Jango and they sent over a bit more information. And it wasn’t the best of news to be receiving after indicating they were taking the job… 

A scientist has settled on a planet named Druckenwell and was experimenting on some of the planet’s citizens with a virus. The scientist made the virus, but the worst part was that the virus was commissioned to be made. None of the senators knew who commissioned the scientist. Some guessed the ruling guilds were preparing to wage a war against each other and this was one way of them preparing. As part of the job, the senators want a sample of the virus. And, preferably, they want everything else destroyed and the scientist captured. They didn’t necessarily want any nurses or assistants to be killed but they understood if it happened, as long as they received a sample of the virus so they could make a cure and attempt to save anyone infected. 

Jango seemed a bit hesitant after receiving the complete details. He indicated wanting to hear Obi-Wan’s opinion but the Jedi in the younger man was loud and demanded they go do the job. So all Obi-Wan did was express that he wanted to take the job. He knew he showed some worry on his face through Jango’s uncomfortable expression, but the _Mand’alor_ yielded and went to his cabin to think and go over the information sent to them. Obi-Wan sat in the cockpit to review the information as they hovered outside of Alderaan’s atmosphere. 

About a standard hour later, Jango sent a message through the ship’s systems. He wanted Obi-Wan to set a course for Druckenwell (the order was given partly because he wanted to make sure Obi-Wan knew how to use the navigation systems but also because he made his decision). It looks like they’re taking down a scientist… 

The trip was estimated to be several hours longer than three days but apparently the hyperdrive wasn’t running at full capacity so it took them four days (it wasn’t a major difference but it irked Jango because it meant the hyperdrive might be in need of some maintenance and they didn’t have time for that when they were on the job. Additionally, a sudden drop in performance meant someone could have tampered with the hyperdrive or it was in the state of failing. Neither were good when on an unfamiliar planet). 

This meant four days of a different pace. Enough time to pick up old habits after temporarily putting them on pause for vacation. Though, it also meant putting the new habits they picked up to a halt. They resumed exercising and training together. Leisure time was sometimes spent together and other times alone in the cockpit, respective cabins, or cargo hold. Resuming old habits also meant sleeping alone once more. 

Obi-Wan originally wouldn’t have complained about sleeping alone. And then he spent a standard week (plus a day on Chandrila) sharing a bed with someone. The first night back on _Jaster’s Legacy_ was odd. It was too quiet. Obi-Wan only had his own heart beating and his breathing and the ship to listen to. It was cold and lonely. He didn’t like it but he had to remind himself that that’s how it has been for the past few months. That’s how it’ll be for a while. 

Instead of sleeping during the first night cycle onboard, Obi-Wan decided to meditate until it was an appropriate time to be considered awake. The first time he and Jango made eye contact after they left their cabins, Jango gave him a half-knowing look but didn’t comment. It made Obi-Wan wonder if Jango also had any issues sleeping. By not calling Obi-Wan out on forgoing sleep, he left the conversation closed so he wouldn’t face any backlash should an argument erupt. 

Their second day in hyperspace was a bit laxer since they both weren’t full of as much energy as normal. Their other two days were back to normal but Obi-Wan noticed Jango acting more on edge than usual. 

They landed in a city named Balo. Probably the only city surrounded by wetlands on three sides. Most of the planet was urban, suffering from overcrowding and an obvious class difference. The world was run by guilds and most cities were built with class zones in mind. Balo was like most of the other cities on Druckenwell but a bit more lenient with the zones (that’s not to say the zones didn’t exist. It was obvious when they were landing where the blue-collar and elite districts were). 

Their hangar was busy, but all the hangars were that way. It was partly why they landed in Balo. The next city over, connected to Balo by only one road, was larger and had a lot more resources. If they were going to explore and dig into databanks, Balo wasn’t the city for it but they had to make do. Their biggest issue was not knowing where their scientist was working. Once they find that out, they will be able to get things rolling. 

They armored up and grabbed their smaller weapons. Obi-Wan had several knives, his blaster pistol, and falchion on him. Jango only had his twin WESTAR-34 blaster pistols and anything else he keeps in the many pockets of his belt. He went around locking the ship up and deactivating several things before he donned his _buy’ce_ and nodded to Obi-Wan, who was wearing his neck gaiter and visor and as little armor as possible. 

Obi-Wan was getting a very bad feeling from this planet. The way he was feeling about it was the way he felt about Tatooine, but this time he couldn’t place a finger on it. He didn’t like Tatooine because of the amount of sand, the heat, and the danger of criminals. He didn’t like Druckenwell due to the looming smog but there was something else burrowing itself into his gut. He would have to keep tabs on it and how his feelings change later. Now wasn’t time for getting distracted. The more he stays focused, the sooner they can get the job done. 

They exited the ship and Jango locked it up after himself. He dropped the fail-safe in one of his most secure pouches as he turned to Obi-Wan. 

“Ready?” he asked, voice modified by the speakers of his _buy’ce_. 

“As ready as I can be on this planet…” Obi-Wan grumbled in reply. 

The building was in the center of Balo, something Obi-Wan saw as a good thing. He didn’t want to be involved with any class wars going on. If the guilds were making viruses to take each other down, staying out of the community was a very good idea. 

Obi-Wan had their field datapad with him and had a map pulled up of Balo. Jango wanted to head to a bar to see if they could get any information. Obi-Wan gave directions to the closest, seediest bar. The bar was on the edge of the blue-collar zone and middle zone. So despite its low status and possible ability to associate them with the classes, it was probably one of the only bars that would accept bounty hunters (that explanation being from Obi-Wan reading through reviews and seeing negative comments on the higher-end bars after some of the patrons noticed armored, gritty, unfamiliar people just trying to unwind). Jango was probably more familiar with run-down joints anyway. 

They walked until they arrived, receiving fewer stares the closer they got to the lowest district. They were able to enter the bar and find a booth to sit at, only receiving minimal stares (and probably only minimal because the curious patrons wanted a gander at the decorated visitors). A serving droid came over to take orders so Jango ordered them each a beer. Obi-Wan started delving into local information, smirking when their drinks came and there was a colorful straw sticking out of each bottle. 

The news was pretty bare for anything mentioning a mad scientist experimenting on Druckenwell’s citizens. There were mentions of a virus starting to plague certain cities. The largest ones weren’t being hit the hardest, however. Smaller, more industrial cities like Balo were suffering quite a bit. Though Balo wasn’t a city suffering yet. It was projected to start suffering soon. A few of its residents were reported to be showing signs of the virus and were removed and transported to an unknown location where other patients were also staying. 

Jango ultimately stood to roam the bar and question the bartender. Normally it was something they wouldn’t agree to do but the bar was small and a quick consultation with the Force soothed Obi-Wan’s nerves. The bar was safe enough. It wasn’t as bad as the club they visited on Coruscant or the cantina on Tatooine. Obi-Wan thought it was odd that a bar could have a friendly atmosphere but that was part of the Jedi in him talking and being biased… 

Trying to find the location where the infected patients are being kept was not only the hard part but also the shadiest part. There was next to no information. The people in charge don’t want the location known so, according to the information, unwanted guests don’t come and try to make the nurses’ work harder by saying last-minute goodbyes. That didn’t seem right at all. There was also no information on the doctor in charge and how work was going. It was unknown if there were any survivors. The number of deaths (because there were confirmed deaths) was unlisted. 

Jango was still prowling the bar when Obi-Wan found that revelation. He sipped his beer through the straw overtop his neck gaiter awkwardly and continued researching. His next step was finding a discussion thread with participants who had someone they know taken for being infected. There were several threads, and Obi-Wan was scrolling through seemingly endless conversations before he finally came across a comment made by someone who was from Balo. The person’s spouse was taken several months ago. No one has heard from or seen them since. 

According to that person, and based on the timestamps, Balo was one of the first cities hit. It suffered many cases—many instances in the lower zones—before it seemingly cleared up. The person who made the comment was the only person from Balo who had access to the comment threads and there were several more people who they knew who had gone missing. The person who commented belonged in the middle zones, and believes their survival was an anomaly. Several others agreed with the person from Balo. 

The situation was bad, but Obi-Wan felt excitement running through his veins after finally having a lead. If he could find the commenter from Balo, maybe he and Jango can meet up with them. Even if they have very little information to give, he and Jango will have at least _something_. This was probably their only solid lead at the moment, it might be their only choice. 

Jango eventually returned to the booth and that’s when Obi-Wan shared his findings (but with less excitement). He explained the virus’ sudden and random appearances in cities, especially the oddity in how it attacked smaller cities and only in the lower zones (the Balo commenter seeming to be the only exception). He went on about the unknown location of where the infected people were being taken and the lack of information about the states they were in and lack of living status. 

“You think the person in Balo will be willing to talk?” Jango asked after Obi-Wan was done speaking and feeling partially breathless. 

“I think it’s our only solid lead at the moment,” Obi-Wan responded after taking a swig of his beer. 

“Send them a message, then. Tell them we’re here on a bounty so they may be more willing to talk to us without worrying about it being a trap.” 

Obi-Wan was already on it. He was typing a message asking if the commenter would be willing to meet them, adding that he and his companion were looking into the virus as part of a job. He sent the message and waited. No more than five standard minutes later, Obi-Wan got a reply. It was the commenter from Balo. They agreed enthusiastically, providing a set of coordinates and a very close time to meet. Obi-Wan shared the news with Jango. The _Mand’alor_ nodded, pleased. They finished their drinks and paid the bartender before leaving to head to the coordinates. 

The coordinates led them deeper into the lowest zone. It was a strange location—since the commenter lived in the middle zone—but the meeting was their only lead, so they had no choice but to attend it. Jango was in his _beskar’gam_ , impenetrable and an imposing figure of silver and blue, and Obi-Wan looked less threatening but his agility would be able to save him. They were well-armed and ready for an attack if it was a trap. 

The field datapad brought them to a little shack made of durasteel and a pale duracrete. Jango beat his fist on the blue durasteel door. It immediately slid open to reveal a bearded human pointing a blaster at them. Jango slowly looked down at the weapon, giving off an unimpressed feeling in the Force. 

“Who are you?” the person asked. 

“Dral Khor, he/him. I’m the one who messaged you…” Obi-Wan introduced himself politely. 

“And I am Jango Fett, he/him. I am Khor’s companion…” 

The commenter blanched and quickly lowered the blaster, urging the two mercenaries to enter. They did, and the door slid shut roughly behind them. “I am so sorry. I am David, he/him. I had to be sure it wasn’t a trap and not someone from the guilds finally coming for me, too. They could try to claim my children if I’m not careful…” 

They were in some sort of house for storing something in crates. David directed them to a little set-up with a crate in the middle as a table and three smaller crates around it for seating. They sat down and began the meeting. 

“What makes you think the guilds are behind the virus?” Jango started. 

“The world is run by corporate guilds,” David began, speaking with a hushed tone. “They have moments where they are at each other’s metaphorical throats. They never care if us normal citizens get caught in the crossfire. Not only that, but people from the lowest zones are disappearing and in the smaller cities that don’t matter as much as the main money-making cities. The smaller cities go under the radar more because we are seen as unimportant. It is believed the guilds, or just one guild, is trying to fashion a virus to eliminate the others. Once that one guild is in charge, they’ll have the virus they can spread to other planets…” 

It’s exactly what the senators were fearing. Druckenwell is a Trade Federation world, and after the Naboo conflict, it would make sense if the Trade Federation was looking to cause more trouble. Whichever guild that commissioned the virus could be the puppet of a ranked member of the Trade Federation. It was all a mess… 

“But it’s unknown where all these test subjects are being held.” That was supposed to be a question but Jango was seemingly still wrapping his head around what was just said. 

“Mostly correct.” David shifted. “There’s an industrial town down the road, to the west of here by a few clicks. A few others in Balo think it may be located there. It’s unnamed, technically, and that’s why it flies under the radar. Everyone in Balo calls it Evermore because even before the virus, people were known to die there under harsh working conditions. It’s an experimental town, it would make sense they’re doing virus experiments there.” 

Just their luck they landed in Balo… Not long ago they were with absolutely no information and now they potentially have the city where the virus is being made. They still have to actually find the exact building and scope the place out, but they were much farther along than what they thought they’d be at this time. 

“And no one has made a recovery?” Obi-Wan asked. 

David shook his head sullenly. “Or if they have, then they’ve been kept in the facilities for more testing. It’s partially why we in Balo, we who know about and acknowledge the virus, think it’s the guilds vying for power and not some sort of capitalist scam where they withhold a cure for an exorbitant fee. At least it’s not a capitalist scam _yet_.” 

Jango tapped his knee loudly before he stood abruptly. “Do you know how we would get to Evermore?” 

“I have a friend with a transport truck willing to drive you out there, but she can’t promise a ride back. Or I have a two-person landspeeder you can borrow. It’s not in the best shape but it’s the only ride I can provide you with a guaranteed return trip.” 

“That’ll be fine. We’re ready to leave now, so show us the way.” 

David made a face but he complied. He swung his blaster over one shoulder and grabbed a key off his belt as he also stood and led them to the back, twin blue durasteel door. He went through several alleys until they came to a building resembling a garage. There were others standing along the edge of the room but they paid the three newcomers no mind. They neared an open-topped brown landspeeder with black racing stripes going down the middle of it. David leaned over the edge of the vehicle to put the key in and ignite the engine. He stepped back and motioned to it. 

“Here she be.” 

Obi-Wan focused on the bruises under David’s eyes. “How many children do you have?” 

The man recoiled and Obi-Wan saw Jango even spin to look at his companion. What? David wasn’t secretive about his family members when he mentioned in the comment threads about his spouse disappearing and outright telling Obi-Wan and Jango he has children. Obi-Wan just wanted to know… 

“Three.” David sounded offended. 

Obi-Wan nodded to himself. “Perhaps it would be safest for all of you if you laid low for the time while we are gone. If it is one of the guilds like you think, then they could be watching you.” 

“You don’t think I don’t already know that?” the man spat in return. His nose wrinkled and he turned away. “Just go, and put the keys back in my shed before you leave the planet…” He was walking off, leaving the two mercenaries alone. 

“What was that?” Jango asked in a scolding manner. 

“I was curious. I wanted to make sure he would be safe while we are visiting Evermore.” 

Jango climbed into the speeder. “He’s lasted this long… Now get in, we need to get moving.” 

Obi-Wan blinked. He shook off the bad feeling he felt within the Force. It had to be from the revelation of Evermore. Or maybe it was Jango’s own emotions in the Force. Nevertheless, Obi-Wan climbed into the passenger seat of the speeder. Jango kicked the vehicle into gear and drove it out of the garage. 

Evermore looked abandoned. It was even smaller than a town. It just looked large because of the immense warehouses. Otherwise, there was no one in sight. The streets were an uncomfortable mixture of sparkling clean and caked with moss and dirt. The few present benches were either in perfect condition or looked like they suffered from some sort of explosion. 

Jango parked the speeder behind some gnarled bare bushes along the edge of Evermore to allow them to enter the town silently. Obi-Wan was staring down at their datapad as they began to walk between the buildings. It had no signal. It guided them here, but as soon as they were in Evermore’s bounds, it went down. 

Obi-Wan reported the change. Jango cursed quietly in _Mando’a_. No matter… If this town was the source of the virus, they only had a few buildings to search through. And what building better to search first than the hospital? 

After a bit of exploring, they came to the heart of the town. The hospital was at the very center in a large plaza, eerily separated from the other buildings by small dead trees and park benches and pavement. It loomed over the open space as if it was a morgue and not a place where people are supposed to be saved. It filled Obi-Wan’s heart with dread just looking at it. Jango was experiencing unease but he was nowhere near as perturbed as Obi-Wan was starting to feel. 

The Force felt dark. Not quite like the dark side, but immoral. Sick. Too many deaths happened in the hospital and the Force was suffering from it. 

They circled around the building several times, observing their options for entering. The main entrance of the hospital was boarded up and the back entrance was locked up (according to Jango. The HUD of his visor was able to tell him that apparently). That led to them climbing onto the roof where they found vent access. It wasn’t ideal, especially with the uncertainty of what would be waiting for them inside, but it was their only option. Besides, a stealthy entrance was better than blowing the doors off and attracting all the attention to them before they even have the chance to locate their target and grab any samples of the virus. 

Before entering, Obi-Wan silenced the datapad and set it up so it would map out the building and mark their path. They popped the grate off. Jango entered first, a very tight fit with his jetpack on. Obi-Wan climbed in after him and pulled the grate back in place. 

They worked their way through the ducts slowly, doing their best to stay as silent as possible. Both of their armor wasn’t making it very easy for that, and Jango’s jetpack constantly tapping above their heads was becoming more annoying over time. They had to remove another grate, one that looked like it had filters built into it, but they didn’t put this one back in place. The vents also took a very noticeable decline, probably bringing them down a whole floor. 

As they continued, they took notice of the activity of the building. Machinery was on and running. People’s voices echoed in the halls below. The vents smelled like antiseptic and formaldehyde. Obi-Wan wanted to puke at the evidence of the hospital was alive. All they had to do was find the virus and secure the scientist and they can leave the wretched building. 

They came to a split in the ducts. There was a bit of discussion and it was decided they would split up. Jango would take the larger vent and Obi-Wan would go through the smaller one. They were both uneasy about it but it was their best option. 

“Wait.” Obi-Wan pulled out the datapad and ejected a chip from it and held it out to Jango. “So I know your location and so your path will be added to the map.” 

Jango took it without argument, dropping the chip into one of the pouches on his belt. “Keep your comm handy.” 

Obi-Wan nodded as they went their separate ways. 

It was harder to maneuver in his vent but he used the Force to muffle his sounds. An even trade, and doable since Jango wasn’t around. He crawled through the tight fit, stopping to look through every grate that he came across. 

Jango gave quiet updates, and Obi-Wan responded as best as he could. Neither of them came across anything significant. Jango went through the cafeteria. He then went down another that looked like it went through a little physical fitness center but he had to turn around and find another path because the ducts in the physical fitness center came to abrupt stops. Obi-Wan, meanwhile, found himself going through storage rooms and offices that seemed very out of place. 

_“Found the morgue,”_ Jango’s voice said over his comlink. 

Obi-Wan froze. He was currently staring down into an empty room containing an x-raying machine. He backed away from the grate. “And?” 

The other man was silent for a time and Obi-Wan’s hands turned clammy. _“It’s filled… lots of bodies and only one or two people sorting through things… It’s bad.”_

The ex-Jedi had to shield himself from the Force as the bad feelings within it were threatening to overwhelm him. Instead, he decided to start moving again. “Any idea where our target might be? And the virus?” 

_“Target should be with the virus. That’s the only plausible explanation to me. I might be close but I think I need to climb upwards.”_

“All right. I’ll meet you up there.” 

It took some more crawling through the ducts until Obi-Wan was able to find one that led upwards. It was a lot harder to climb up it than he originally thought. It took a lot of struggling and boosting from the Force. The walls around him were fairly tight and slippery resulting in progress with a lot of regression. Without the use of the Force, he probably wouldn’t have been able to ascend. 

The second floor seemed to be what they were looking for, or it was close to it. 

The duct Obi-Wan was in had him looking down at an empty inpatient room. Several rooms after it were similar and varying in size. He reported that to Jango and received no response. 

He was above a lab when Jango finally responded. Obi-Wan didn’t know how long he was staring down into the room waiting for something to happen. No one ever entered the room and the colorful bottles of liquids were still. 

_“I think I found the scientist. Where are you?”_

Obi-Wan activated his comlink by pressing a button on his visor near his ear. “Above a lab of sorts. Lots of liquids but I can’t see if any are labeled. One could be the virus…” 

_“Don’t risk it; come to me. The scientist is in a room but there is a little waiting room before it and an active clinic before the waiting room. You might be able to meet me above the waiting room,”_ Jango instructed. 

Obi-Wan bit his lip. There was no one in the room below… would it hurt to jump down and grab some? But Jango gave him an order. Best to follow it while they still had the chance. He tore himself away from the grate and continued down the duct. And either way, he didn’t know what the virus looked like. 

Continuing, he came across the clinic Jango mentioned. It was busy. Nurses wearing little protective gear attended to patients laying on hospital beds and stretchers. Some patients looked worse than others, their skin pale and wet. Some looked on the brink of death, hardly moving and struggling to breathe, their eyes closed and chests barely moving. This is where the bad feeling in the Force was coming from. Why weren’t they putting some of the patients in the hospital rooms? The room was cramped! Unless they were absolutely certain the patients wouldn’t recover and thought it pointless to keep everyone separated… 

Obi-Wan had to force himself to keep moving. His limbs were trying to lock up, he wanted to go down and stop the tests… but the scientist was the head, and if they were eliminated, then the rest crumbles. 

The ducts led Obi-Wan to Jango. He had to take off a grate and squeeze through the smallest opening he has come across yet, but after that, he was greeted with the sight of Jango (and they were in the bigger-sized vent again). The man was sitting and leaning against the wall of the vent and looking down at the clinic. He felt troubled in the Force. 

“Fare well?” Jango’s voice was tuned differently, probably having something to do with muting his microphone. 

Obi-Wan shrugged as he knelt next to Jango. “Nothing very enlightening. Empty patient rooms. They’re keeping everyone in that big room, it appears.” 

“Great…” 

Jango got onto his knees and turned so he could pop the grate off. He allowed Obi-Wan to jump down first. Obi-Wan fit himself through the opening and dropped into the waiting room silently. There was no one else (it would have been very bad if there _was_ someone sitting along the edge of the room that they didn’t see). Jango landed next to him, not as quietly but it was good considering all that he wore and the material of his gear. A good show of skills. 

The waiting room was small and simple. There was a reception desk but it was abandoned and cleared off. There were also a few chairs along the walls but they were cleaned off and looked completely unused. The only windows, facing the clinic, were dark. 

Obi-Wan felt a bad feeling in his gut and he swallowed in response. He didn’t want to enter the next room but they didn’t have a choice. 

They gathered by the doors to the next room. Jango burst through the doors, pulling out one WESTER-34 and sweeping it around the room before he aimed it in one direction. Obi-Wan followed, taking more time to observe the room before he turned to view a Faust sitting behind a cluttered desk and under the scrutiny of the _Mand’alor_. 

“I was unaware I had an appointment!” The Faust’s voice was grating on the ears… 

Obi-Wan stared at the Faust. It was Nuvo Vindi, the mad scientist and doctor responsible for the depopulization of Candoria because of his obsession with the Blue Shadow Virus. The Republic wants him dead. The senators will have a field day when they learn their target turns out to be the very same man who already has a 250,000 bounty on his head. He’s not only the reason for the Blue Shadow Virus causing mayhem, but now he was starting another virus. 

“Yeah, sorry, didn’t know who to call,” Jango growled. His blaster whirred to life as a way to intimidate the doctor. “Why are you doing this?” 

“Doing what?” Nuvo Vindi replied hysterically. 

“Experimenting on innocent people!” Obi-Wan barked. His anger rose to the surface. It came out of nowhere. “You’re targeting small cities so it won’t be noticed!” 

The sarcastic smile on the Faust’s face faded a bit. He looked irritated. “I was hired, my young friend! My skills were recognized and I was commissioned to create a new virus to unleash on a new group of patients!” 

“By who?” Jango’s voice was chilly. 

Vindi was quiet. “I am not sure. I was paid a substantial amount, and I can’t resist this type of work, so I accepted.” 

Obi-Wan shook his head and turned away. Vindi was telling the truth. It was a bad sign. Another party was in the mix—an _unknown_ party—and it made existing problems even worse because they were trying to have a virus created for their own deeds while remaining anonymous. Though, if Jango was to be asked, he would say it wasn’t their issue to deal with. They were only here to grab the scientist and a vial or two of the virus. Whoever hired Vindi to make the virus was someone else’s problem. 

He stepped away to look at more in the room while Jango continued to question the doctor. There wasn’t much to look at, though. The room was cluttered with filing cabinets and scattered datapads and boxes full of unused equipment. Chairs not matching any part of the building were just thrown into piles. Even the desk Vindi was sitting behind was old, rusted, and in very bad condition. Posters in similar condition hung on the walls, some with questionable messages on them (in reference to the Loth-cat hanging on a branch saying “Hang in there!”). It was all very odd and made Obi-Wan begin to question Vindi’s sanity. 

“Your little buddy is very comfortable searching through my things…” 

“Well maybe the sooner you comply the sooner he will stop snooping…” 

Obi-Wan backed away from one of the filing cabinets to look at the other two. He saw the fire escape in the corner of his eye and felt some relief. 

“I’ve told you all I know,” Vindi said with mock sincerity. 

“Not everything.” 

“Whatever do you mean, oh noble warrior?” 

“The virus!” Jango pulled out his other WESTAR-34 blaster. It hummed to life like the other. 

The Faust rolled his eyes. He leaned over and started rooting through his desk drawers like he didn’t have two deadly blaster pistols aimed at him. He frowned in concentration as he went through several drawers until he finally grabbed a few empty vials and dropped them on the desk. 

“They aren’t here, as you can see. I know the sensors in the vents detected someone near the lab…” Grey eyes focused on Obi-Wan and the ex-Jedi looked away guiltily. So he could have possibly grabbed their solution then and there… 

“Then go get one…” 

“Let me make a deal with you, hmm? You put your guns away, I’ll contact my receptionist, she’ll bring it in, and you can leave with one vial peacefully. Is that a deal?” 

“Fine…” Jango growled. He stubbornly holstered his blasters and but refused to move as the Faust started messing with an old console on the desk. 

It was uncomfortably quiet as they waited for the receptionist to come in. When she finally arrived, holding a tray of covered equipment, the atmosphere didn’t get any better. If anything, the negative emotions in the Force were starting to become oppressive and cloud Obi-Wan’s senses. 

The receptionist approached Jango. She lifted the little white sheet covering the items and Jango looked down at them. 

The next events happened in such quick succession, it was a blur. 

“They’re also empty!” Jango snapped in outrage. 

Vindi cleared his throat loudly. Obi-Wan looked at him, noticing he was suddenly poised and ready to throw a bright yellow hypo-syringe. He acted even quicker than the Force user did. With a snap of his wrist, the hypo went flying and struck Obi-Wan’s arm right below his shoulder pauldron. Obi-Wan didn’t have time to react as the hypo auto-injected an orange liquid into his arm. 

Jango took notice of the situation. He backed away from the receptionist, shuffling toward Obi-Wan with precision. It was a wordless dance as Obi-Wan rushed toward the fire escape and fiddled with the locks on the door as Jango came up behind him to guard his six. 

“Get it open,” Jango hissed. 

“I’m trying!” Obi-Wan replied weakly. His body was trembling in fear and from the implication of the hypo in his shoulder. Giving up, he used the Force to get the door open as he heard a _clink_ behind him and saw a hypo flying off Jango’s lifted vambrace. Jango took notice of the unlocked door and rushed forward, ushering Obi-Wan through the door. 

Instead of going down the flights of stairs, Jango wrapped his arms around the younger man, activated his jetpack, and sent them through the large set of windows at the top of the stairwell. He angled his body so his _buy’ce_ would strike the glass first and so most shards would brush off it and his shoulder pauldrons. After breaking through the glass, he then angled them toward the ground so they were out of sight faster. 

Jango let go of Obi-Wan as soon as they crashed into the ground and was still. Obi-Wan rolled away panting, his breath knocked out of him. He laid on his back, staring up at the now-dark sky. It was silent, the dead atmosphere of Evermore was stifling. In a way, it was calming, but depressing all the while. Dread welled up in him and it felt like he was going to crack. 

“We need to get moving.” Jango broke the silence. He grunted as he finally moved and pulled Obi-Wan up with him. His eyes were obviously staring at Obi-Wan’s arm. 

Obi-Wan also looked down at the hypo in his arm, dejected. He pulled it out and dispensed it in one of the pouches on his belt. Jango looked at him for a second before moving away sharply and tugging Obi-Wan after him. To the speeder, and back to Balo to recuperate. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Also, I am bringing this to everyone's attention now: the rating of this fic is being reassessed. There is a high chance that it will increase. I hope this doesn't deter anyone, but it would be so that I can write what I want without worrying about it being too much for the mature tag. If it does change, I will try to remember to mention explicit instances in the notes of that chapter. If the rating doesn't change, I'll probably return to the notes of this chapter and delete this. 
> 
> And thanks for all the support so far! I appreciate each and every one of you. c:


	22. Chapter 22

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is the chapter that was written in a day (referenced in the endnotes of chap 19). It's probably my favorite chapter so far. (although I just wrote a scene for a different chapter with upped ante that I believe will be pretty enjoyable...) 
> 
> Disclaimer/Warning from the previous chapter still stands. 
> 
> Don't hate me for this one! c;

Jango was driving the landspeeder at top speeds, yet they still didn’t arrive at Balo in a very timely manner. 

Obi-Wan contacted David on their way back, informing the man that they were keeping the speeder at _Jaster’s Legacy_ since they would be needing to borrow it again. David questioned what happened but all Obi-Wan could bear to respond with was that things went wrong and they would need to be returning to complete their job. 

When they arrived at the ship, parking the landspeeder in the cargo bay, Jango leaped out of the speeder. His emotions were an overwhelming stormcloud around him that had been brewing ever since they were escaping Evermore. Obi-Wan climbed out after him with less enthusiasm, his legs threatening to give up after a few steps. Jango, pausing in his wild pacing, rushed over to assist Obi-Wan through the ship and to their seats in the cockpit. Jango sat in the pilot’s seat once Obi-Wan was situated in the co-pilot’s seat. 

“We should contact Roz.” Obi-Wan broke the silence between them with his quiet voice. His entire body felt numb thinking about the implication of his signed death sentence. How could he let that happen? Now it was something he couldn’t even fight with the Force. It was in his bloodstream and already affecting him. Filtering it earlier may have been beneficial but he couldn’t have gotten rid of it completely or else that would have been suspicious. “Maybe she might know what to do…” 

“What, so you can tell her that you just got infected with a highly fatal virus?” Jango winced when he raised his voice. He turned in his chair to grab a small bottle of the painkillers that are seemingly everywhere on the ship and dry-swallowed a few capsules. “You’re not saying goodbye to her. She was alerted when we left Alderaan but she wasn’t informed of how dangerous this job would be and she won’t know until we see her next time. She should be glad she was even informed of us leaving Alderaan; she was never informed of my whereabouts until you came along.” 

Obi-Wan ignored the accusatory tone. “So you let her worry for your life on Outland alone? I don’t agree with that approach, Jango. She should know, especially since my life is officially on the line now.” 

“Well I don’t agree with your approach,” Jango muttered softly. Yet he leaned forward and started pressing a few buttons on the console. There was a low, steady beeping until a light flashed behind them. Turning around, it was a projection of Roz. That meant he called, and Roz was able to see both of them (Jango once explained how it was the only holoprojector on _Jaster’s Legacy_ and he only mostly had it because some officials and contractors liked to see who they were talking to. With this setup, you had to turn your seat around and face the exit to talk to the person because the full image would appear there. It made talking a lot more efficient when you could see who you were talking to at realistic sizes). 

Roz looked surprised to see them. “Hello, boys! I hoped you enjoyed your vacation on Alderaan?” 

“I was fine,” Jango answered unenthusiastically, crossing his arms in the process. 

“It was lovely, Roz, thank you,” Obi-Wan answered politely as he pulled down his neck gaiter, smiling a bit nervously. 

“Anytime, Dral!” Roz returned brightly. “So what are you two doing now? I take it you’re on another job?” 

Kriff, Obi-Wan didn’t know how to break the news to her. She had to know, but how? Do they outright tell her that Obi-Wan has a very high chance of dying because he had a virus injected into him? They could just hint at it, say they knew someone who got it and they are trying to find a cure and need a bit of guidance, then end the call with loving goodbyes so at least their last conversation together would end on a happy note. Frightening Roz wasn’t the goal because it was cruel to make her be on Outland alone while not knowing right away if Obi-Wan makes it or not. And who’s to say that Jango won’t follow the same fate? His _beskar’gam_ is very protective in the front but lacks the same shielding on his backside. 

“Yeah…” Obi-Wan trailed off. He didn’t know how to approach it. 

Though, Roz seemed to notice something was off. Both men were silent. Jango had his arms crossed and was looking away stubbornly while Obi-Wan was worrying his lip with his teeth and awkwardly looking around the cockpit trying to avoid looking at Roz. 

“What aren’t you telling me? Jango, take your bucket off.” 

Jango didn’t hesitate to obey. He reached up, unclipped his _buy’ce_ , and set it on his lap. It looked like he was pouting, with the way he stuck his jaw out. Were his eyes wet? 

Obi-Wan looked away. He felt like he wasn’t supposed to see that. 

“What’s wrong?” Roz’s voice was steady but her worry was there. 

Jango covered his eyes with one hand and shifted so he was slumped in his seat, refusing to look at Roz. It looks like it’s up to Obi-Wan how he delivers the news… 

The ex-Jedi clasped his hands together and brought them close to his mouth as he leaned forward to rest his elbows on his thighs, giving Roz his attention. He began slowly, evenly, “The job we took is high-risk, high-paying; and I’m suffering from that. I got injected with a fatal virus.” He pulled out the hypo. There was basically no liquid left in it, only a few straggling drops but it wasn’t enough to make a cure from. “We don’t have a second to engineer an antidote from. As far as we know, there are no survivors and there is no cure already made…” 

Roz slowly covered her mouth. Her face was stricken with shock and horror. Obi-Wan felt horrible for springing the news on her (though his body also wasn’t feeling the best at the moment, either). 

The Toydarian abruptly turned towards the _Mand’alor_. “Jango! How could you let this happen!” 

What? “You can’t blame him for this…” Obi-Wan tried to say, but was covered up by Jango sitting up in less than a second and shouting back with a shaky voice, “We didn’t know what we were getting into! It’s a job, Roz, sometimes things go wrong!” 

“But that doesn’t mean you let it happen!” 

“I didn’t just _let it happen_!” Jango snarled. He pointed a finger at his chest. “I had my gun trained on that _hut’uun_ the entire time! The only time I wasn’t giving him my attention was when he called his receptionist in with supposed vials to give to me, and they were empty.” 

“Why would you fall for that, Jango?” 

“Because I was being optimistic!” 

They didn’t seem to have any steam left to argue so Jango sat back in his seat and rubbed his face aggressively with his hands. 

“Any advice?” Obi-Wan asked quietly. 

It looked like there were tears in Roz’s eyes. She gave a dramatic shrug that had exhaustion behind it. “Only that you have to get another vial of the virus or else we lose you, darling. The old medical droid should be able to whip up a cure once you give it to ‘em. But Jango, you won’t be able to go with Dral to get a vial.” 

“ _Nu draar_!” Jango was sitting straight and looking like he was about to bolt. “I’m not the one who got stuck!” 

“So you’ll risk also getting infected? If Dral is still able, by the time you head back out again, let him go back and fetch it. I’m _telling_ you to follow his lead. Dral is lighter on his feet than you and I believe he’ll be able to make a quick escape and leave less of a trail.” Roz shrugged again, less dramatic this time. “But that’s just my advice. Follow it or don’t. You’re a grown-up, you can think for yourself. Put yourself in danger and see how that goes…” 

She reached forward, presumably to end the call. Obi-Wan spoke up before she could. “Roz, wait!” She looked at him so he smiled feebly. “Love you. We’ll be back on Outland in no time.” 

Roz blinked and sniffed. A tear escaped and she cleared her throat. “I’ll hold you to that, Dral. Take care, both of you.” She ended the call, and as soon as the projection disappeared, Jango was out of his chair and walking through _Jaster’s Legacy_. Obi-Wan unclipped his visor and secured it around his neck so he could rub at his eyes until he was seeing spots. Once he accomplished that, he got to his feet to follow Jango. 

It wasn’t hard to find the man using the Force. He was in the cargo bay, thankfully not thinking about leaving with the landspeeder to accomplish the task himself. Obi-Wan made his way there and sighed when it looked like the man decided to kick some of the crates containing their extra rations. He didn’t kick them over but they were definitely moved. The man himself was sitting on a crate they stored some extra parts for _Jaster’s Legacy_ in. He was leaned over, cradling his head in his hands. 

Obi-Wan pushed one of the crates near Jango but not too close and sat on it. He got no reaction. 

“You at least realize that what Roz said is true? Do you understand that sending me to get a vial is our best option?” 

Jango scoffed loudly and ran his hands through his hair. He tightened his fingers but he didn’t have a lot of hair to grasp, especially since his little curls were vibrant and making his hair seem even shorter. “I understand and agree, but I don’t accept it. You get blindsided or your body gives out, what then? You don’t have any backup and you’re in a hostile environment with a mad doctor who would rather experiment on you than try to save your life. _What then_?” 

“So you should be the one to go? All three of us know you would try to kill your way through the hospital. If you do that, everyone is alerted of your presence and will have time to destroy anything we could use to procure an antidote.” Obi-Wan sighed. He pulled out the field datapad to check the time before setting it down next to him. “It’s late. Maybe we should get a few hours of shut-eye and act then. Do we both promise to at least not act without the other knowing? Meaning no one is going to leave on the landspeeder without an agreed plan.” 

Jango was uncharacteristically quiet (and that was saying a lot because he was a quiet person in general. This silence was unnerving and not enjoyable whatsoever, completely different from the type of silence he uses on people he doesn’t like or to communicate his displeasure). He finally sat a bit straighter slowly, but still rested his elbows on his thighs. 

“Fine,” he replied in a low voice. “Take your turn first.” 

Obi-Wan nodded, despite Jango not being able to see the action. He left the cargo bay to grab his sleeping clothes from his cabin then took his turn in the refresher. He was quick because of how drained he was feeling. When he was done and returning to his room, he could feel Jango in the cockpit. Best to leave him alone to digest Roz’s words (or whatever he was doing that closely resembled sulking). 

Obi-Wan settled in bed and laid there. He listened to the ship running and eventually he could hear the water running through the walls as Jango took his turn in the refresher. He was awake even after activity in the refresher was at a halt and the sleep cycle was officially occurring. It didn’t make sense. His body was exhausted. It felt like he couldn’t even lift an arm (but he could if he wanted to). He wrapped the blanket from Jango around himself and before he knew it, he swung his legs over the edge of the bed and he was leaving his cabin. 

_Jaster’s Legacy_ was probably a bit bigger than other ships in its class. The cabins were small but allowed for privacy between individuals. Though, there was only one refresher. It meant that the refresher was at the end of the hall of about six individual cabins, and Obi-Wan and Jango’s were right near the refresher. All Obi-Wan had to do to get to Jango’s room was cross the hall. And low and behold, Jango’s door was unlocked. 

The man looked to be asleep but his eyes flashed open after hearing his door open and he was reaching for something before he seemed to realize who was standing in the doorway. He squinted at Obi-Wan in confusion. 

“I can’t sleep,” Obi-Wan said weakly. 

Jango blinked slowly and inhaled deeply through his nose, but he shifted, pulling the covers back, and grunted, “Come over…” 

His legs carried him forward until he was climbing into Jango’s bed. It would be a tight fit, it seemed. Obi-Wan settled on a warm spot left behind by Jango. And it appeared Jango liked to sleep without a shirt when he was in the privacy of his own room… 

“Why’d you bring this with you?” It sounded like he was barely awake. 

“I don’t know,” Obi-Wan answered. He wasn’t really thinking at the moment. 

Jango spread Obi-Wan’s blanket over both of them and started fiddling with the other blankets so it was more comfortable. Why did the man sleep with so many blankets? He was still trying to get in a comfortable position when Obi-Wan was starting to drift off. Jango finally made a decision, it seemed. Obi-Wan felt arms wrap around his waist and a head press against the space between his shoulder blades. Jango stilled and relaxed immediately. The ex-Jedi was woken up a bit and had to decide if he was uncomfortable. He wasn’t so he decided going to sleep was his best bet. Maybe the position was a way for Jango to cope. And honestly? Obi-Wan wasn’t going to complain. 

In the morning, after a dreamless sleep, Obi-Wan woke up shivering and sweating at the same time. He and Jango were in the same position, but he couldn’t feel Jango putting off a lot of heat, so he wasn’t to be blamed. 

Jango tightened his arms as he was also waking. He sniffed before he let Obi-Wan go and tried to shimmy away as best as he could with a wall behind him. But just before completely giving Obi-Wan his space back, he rested the top of his hand on the younger man’s forehead and hissed out a curse. 

“You’re boiling. Go take a tablet and get a shower to cool down,” he ordered, fully awake. 

Obi-Wan basically fell out of bed, tugging his blanket with him. He returned his blanket to his room and grabbed his clothes for the day before heading to the ‘fresher.   
  


David sent a message to warn the mercenaries about the city being on lockdown. Balo was the only city under lockdown. Therefore, Vindi had to have given that order and he must know that Obi-Wan and Jango were stationed there. Was he going to try to collect Obi-Wan and use him as a test subject before he keels over? Or was his goal to simply trap Obi-Wan until the virus claimed him? 

They invited David to _Jaster’s Legacy_ for a private conversation. The first thing he commented on was how ragged Obi-Wan looked. Obi-Wan didn’t say anything in return because he knew it was true. His complexion had paled a bit, his freckles from his sunburns on Alderaan standing out painfully, and he was also sweating from the fever that refused to go away. He was wearing his neck gaiter and breathing through his Jedi-issue rebreather behind it (Jango saw and encouraged him to use the contraption. He didn’t know it was a model that Jedi used and didn’t know how Obi-Wan got it, but he didn’t question his companion). Wearing his visor would have been smart too so he didn’t look like a ghost staring at everything, blue eyes looking painfully irritated, but he didn’t want to completely close off his appearance yet. 

Their guest tried to be helpful, but he didn’t have a lot to offer. Balo was on lockdown, but that only meant no one could leave or enter. People could roam the streets freely. No one was actively searching for Obi-Wan and Jango, which they took as a good sign. If anything, it seemed like people were a bit more aware of missing neighbors. 

Jango and David did all the talking, Obi-Wan giving minimum input so he would keep breathing through the rebreather. Jango described how they got in and escaped and the conditions of the place. Jango relayed the information of how all the patients were packed into one room together, none of the hospital rooms were being used, and the morgue was full. He couldn’t answer if anyone looked familiar. He also mentioned how Obi-Wan came across a lab and David agreed that more vials of the virus would be stored there. 

After hearing their plan, the one where Obi-Wan would go out alone to get another vial or two of the virus, David looked doubtful. They had been discussing the GPS of his landspeeder and he provided that it can follow automatic paths. But he didn’t think Obi-Wan would make it without collapsing from exhaustion, and if he didn’t, then he didn’t think Obi-Wan would still be alive by the time the speeder returned. Not to mention, he had to find a way in and out of Balo. He would probably have an easier time getting out than in, and David was fine if his speeder was left outside the city (just as long as if the keys were taken out of it). 

Jango seemed uncertain about their entire plan but said with confidence, “I trust Dral will know what to do and will return.” 

David still wasn’t convinced. He looked between the two with wide eyes. “Personally, I wouldn’t trust someone that looks like they’re on their last legs to save their own skin, but you know him better than me…” 

They parted not long after that. David advised them to relocate to a hangar that was on the ground level. He said he could help them with that, and gave them a coupon to a local diner if they wanted a meal. Jango took him up on his offer right away and got the ship moved in preparation for later (so they didn’t have to get the speeder on the freighter elevator again). David said he would do his best to limit the activity of that hangar during the night. 

The day was spent mostly preparing for when it was dark and when Obi-Wan would be leaving for Evermore. After they relocated _Jaster’s Legacy_ to a ground-level hangar, they found crates of old clothes (probably Jango’s) for Obi-Wan to wear. They mostly were only searching for a dark hooded poncho that Jango was certain he still had. And he was right. It had several patches on one shoulder, but it was still in good condition. Obi-Wan put it on without hesitation and pulled up his hood before departing. 

They agreed—Jango reluctantly—that Obi-Wan would be without his armor when he returned to Evermore (and during the rest of the day in Balo for convenience). He could move faster without it and he wouldn’t have to worry about being absolutely quiet when going through the vents this time. Not wearing his full ensemble of armor was the reason he was in this mess, but now it was essential he didn’t put it back on for the sake of a safer invasion. 

They left the ship to get their first meal of the day and Obi-Wan was not hungry whatsoever. Looking at food made his stomach turn. He had to force himself to eat but it wasn’t much. They had the same problem during second meal. 

Between meals, they scouted around the city. All entrances were blocked off by guards. The entrance closest to their hangar was guarded, but not very well. There was one guard who looked like they didn’t want to be there at all. Maybe they would be able to take advantage of that when it came time for leaving. If not, Obi-Wan could secretly use a mind trick on them (his words were appealing to their good side) or Jango said he would offer himself up as a distraction. 

They were back on _Jaster’s Legacy_ before the sun was down. Obi-Wan located and downed several more of Jango’s pain tablets since his joints were throbbing and making him miserable. He briefly mused at how the capsules were literally everywhere on the ship (just a little bright thought in a sea of stormy ones). He met up with Jango in the opened cargo bay. He only had his dagger with him, since his goal was to only get the virus. The senators also wanted him to retrieve Vindi but that was not going to happen. The least he will do is destroy all the research that he comes across. 

Jango, in his _beskar’gam_ , looked up when the other man joined him. His _buy’ce_ was sitting on a crate behind him. He was holding one of his WESTAR-34 blasters in his hands. It was in a different holster than the ones connected to his utility belt. 

“Take it with you,” he instructed. 

Obi-Wan looked at the weapon. 

“You can’t go in only armed with a knife.” 

He pulled down his neck gaiter and spat out the rebreather into his hand. “It’s what we agreed upon.” 

“And I’d feel better if you took it with you.” He held the weapon out. “Use it or don’t. It’ll be with you, and it means you _have_ to come back.” 

It was an act driven by desperation. If Jango couldn’t be assured through words that Obi-Wan would actually return, then he was doing the next best thing: giving one of his most prized possessions to Obi-Wan so—in his head—Obi-Wan _had_ to return. 

Obi-Wan cautiously took the holster and gun from him and connected it to his belt that was only holding his sheathed dagger. He barely even noticed it was there, and since the holster strapped to his thigh and completely covered the blaster, he shouldn’t have to worry about the weapon falling out or making lots of noise in the vents. He smirked at Jango before biting back down on the rebreather and shielding his face again. 

No more preparation was needed. It was decided that Obi-Wan would take care of the guard himself. The autopilot feature on the landspeeder was set. They said silent goodbyes, and Obi-Wan was off. 

Obi-Wan didn’t encounter any problems. He decided to use a mind trick on the guard and it worked. He would be let back in when he returned. Now, all he had to do was reach Evermore, get inside, find at least one vial of the virus, then leave. He can do it… 

The speeder was set to go as fast as it could, to and from Evermore, so he arrived sooner than he did when he was with Jango. He parked alongside the closest warehouse. As soon as he exited the vehicle, he fell to his knees as his body tried to keep up. All of his joints protested in agony as he struggled to his feet. The whole ordeal left him breathless and shaking and caused a new onset of sweating. 

_Get to the roof, enter the vents, travel to the next floor, get to the lab, collect vials, destroy evidence, escape…_

He repeated the plan to himself over and over as he approached the hospital, got on the roof, and entered the vents (breaking the initial vent without a care). He retraced his steps in the air ducts, glad to see that no one decided to investigate them. He saw the filtering grate they didn’t put back up and went through the smaller vents since he knew them better than he would know the path that Jango took. 

He used the Force to completely silence his movements (though his lack of armor made it so he had less to silence) and had to use it to boost up the vent like last time. He was also using it to boost his movements and strength like he wasn’t in pain with every movement. He was using it more than normal and will be suffering from it later if he burns himself out on it. 

_Get to the lab, collect vials, destroy evidence, escape…_

The lab was where he remembered it. He used the Force to feel for anyone present… and it was clear, so he removed the grate and jumped down silently. His eyes roamed over the countertops and cupboards. Too many little vials of varying colors were everywhere. They ranged from yellow to blue, to green, to red, to purple, to pink, to white, to clear, to orange… _There_. The only vial containing an orange liquid and a different cork than the others. Obi-Wan snatched the singular vial and gripped it tightly. He couldn’t put it in his belt because he feared it shattering. The only safe option was to carry it out. 

The door opened and he pulled the WESTAR-34 out in a flash. A nurse was walking in, they held their hands up when they saw the weapon aimed their way. 

“Don’t scream or call for help,” Obi-Wan warned lowly, around his rebreather (it was difficult to speak but he was understandable). “Where is the central terminal?” 

“It’s through that set of glass doors,” the nurse—Obi-Wan thinks is a woman—pointed toward the set of sliding glass doors on the far wall. “There’s a terminal.” 

Obi-Wan nodded slowly. “I suggest you leave before I raze this building to the ground.” 

The nurse gasped, nodded, and quickly turned around and left once the weapon was no longer aimed at them. 

Now that he was left alone, Obi-Wan went through the doors and approached the terminal. It looked old due to the clunkiness and size of it, but it ran as if it was brand new and not a hunk of junk. Files about different medicines and current projects (the virus) were easily accessible and just as easily deleted. Obi-Wan stepped back and fired at it after his work was done. If others didn’t know he was here (if the nurse ratted him out), then they would now. He fired the blaster until the machine was smoking and beeping. Thanks to the high rate of fire of the blaster, the terminal didn't last long. 

Onto the next step… how was he supposed to raze the building to the ground? 

The fire alarms started going off, a good enough sign that his presence was noticed. Maybe it would be best if he left. Once they pass on the information to the senators, they can do something about the place. The ex-Jedi jumped back into the vents and headed for Vindi’s office. Even if the Faust wasn’t in there, that was the nearest exit that he knew about. 

Vindi wasn’t in his office, Obi-Wan learned when he entered it like he and Jango did when they visited together. No matter… as disappointing as it was, all he had to do was escape. But when he was moving through the room, he was careless and stepped on some sort of trap that sent a jolt of electricity through him and sent his paralyzed body to the ground. He let go of the vial and blaster when he was on the ground. The WESTAR-34 blaster landed with a clatter and he could only watch the vial roll away from the safety of his hand. 

The electricity cut off his connection to the Force. The loose feeling in his muscles was gone. All of his limbs were sore with deep, burning pain. It hurt to breathe now, a new development. His head spun from the resurfaced pain happening all at once. It felt like he was going to pass out but he had to endure… 

“Of course one of you had to return, I didn’t expect it to be you, though!” Vindi’s shrill voice cried out. 

Obi-Wan’s body was forcefully rolled over so he was looking up at the doctor. Only his eyes were viewable so he made sure they were expressing as much of his hatred as possible. 

“I really don’t appreciate you destroying my research. You know what this means? I’ll have to start all over! Double the population will have been killed and all of their lives will be your fault! Though, it’s not you’ll be alive much longer to feel the guilt weigh on your conscience…” 

He could feel the Force just beyond his grasp. He was reaching out to it desperately, willing it to return to him before he was in a state where he wouldn’t be able to fully connect to it. 

“But did you really think you destroyed everything?” Vindi laughed maniacally as he pulled out a little remote. “I prepared for an anomaly like you. As much as I want to burn down this building and abandon the job, I think you can qualify as my next patient.” 

The doctor reached down and started to pick Obi-Wan’s limp body up. The lights momentarily blinded him when his hood fell down. He shouted around the rebreather in his mouth. The Force returned to him at that moment, when he felt something prick his arm through the poncho. It came back to him in a rush of rage, alleviating most of his pain. He drew his arm back and elbowed the Faust in the head. Obi-Wan landed on his feet when he was dropped and looked at his arm. That kriffer was sedating him! He ripped the syringe from his arm and threw it across the room with a strength that only a Force user can possess. 

“I’m not some lab experiment!” he shrieked around his rebreather. It probably sounded like a garble of words. He summoned his blaster and the remote from the Faust’s hand with the Force and pressed the button on the controller. A little timer counting down from a standard minute activated. Whatever that was, it wasn’t good. He crushed the remote in his palm, dropped it, then also summoned the vial to his newly unoccupied hand. 

The sedation was trying to pull him under but he used the Force in the background to burn it up or _something_. He couldn’t afford that now and it better realize that! It wasn’t a lot but in his state, it was enough to send him under. His head was beginning to spin again, despite being connected to the Force. Not good… 

“You—!” 

Obi-Wan reaffirmed his grip on Jango’s WESTAR-34 and shot directly next to the doctor’s head. 

“Abandon the job,” he growled. 

“I have no choice now! Please! Let me go before the building blows, you idiot!” 

Obi-Wan shrugged. His limbs felt like jelly and he wasn’t feeling very generous. He swung his arm up and fired at random. Vindi wasn’t dead, but he received a nasty shot on his shoulder. Shame… At least the blaster pistols packed a punch and left a mark. 

The ex-Jedi spun around, holstered his blaster, and used the Force to open the door to the fire escape as he ran toward his exit. The window was still out from his and Jango’s venture, so he launched himself through it and used the Force to soften his landing. It wasn’t the best landing, especially since he was starting to feel burnout coming on, but it only left his ankles stinging and he was moving seconds later. He threw himself into the driver’s seat of David’s landspeeder and pressed the button to commence the second part of his trip. 

When Obi-Wan was on the bounds of Evermore, he heard a commotion and turned to see the hospital collapsing. Briefly, he felt bad for anyone trapped inside, but any infected people were already doomed to die and the nurses partially deserved it for supporting a madman like Vindi. 

The return trip to Balo was very blurry. The adrenaline running through Obi-Wan’s veins ran dry and the Force was slowly trickling out of his limbs. He didn’t have the energy to pull his hood back up when he was suddenly waiting for the guard to let him back in (and he was half sure the guard thought he was dead so that’s why he was let in). He only came back to his senses when the landspeeder entered the appropriate hangar and stopped in the mouth of the hangar like it was programmed to. 

Obi-Wan’s body was working on auto-pilot. He climbed out of the landspeeder, collapsed into a pile of limbs, and started stumbling his way through the hangar. He felt relief when he looked up and saw _Jaster’s Legacy_ sitting where they parked her, alone in the hangar. Jango was outside pacing. Obi-Wan’s legs began to carry him forward. Jango’s attention was drawn to his movement and surged in his direction. It took all of the ex-Jedi’s power not to drop again then and there. They met in the middle (though a bit closer to the landspeeder) and Jango wrapped him up in a crushing hug. All of Obi-Wan’s senses were on high alert and deafened all at once. The hug was so comforting and so claustrophobic all at once. He went boneless all except for his hand holding the vial of liquid. 

Obi-Wan now realized his own feelings of fear alongside Jango’s. The man’s distress was bright in the Force. He could have died at any point in Evermore and Jango wouldn’t have known unless he was with his companion or went searching for him and found his body. All of his realizations came crashing into him and he couldn’t hold it back. Hot tears sprang into his eyes and rolled down his clammy cheeks, he gasped to take in all the air that he could. The rebreather made it a bit hard to do that and it sounded more like he was choking. Jango shushed him and cradled the back of his head comfortingly. They sank to their knees together since Obi-Wan didn’t have it in him anymore to stand. He finally let go of the vial on his own accord, letting it roll on the floor softly beside him. 

“Shh, shh… you’re here. We’ll give the virus to the medical droid and you can get a rest now…” 

Obi-Wan leaned his head on the _beskar’gam_ and inhaled the scent of spices and the cleaner Jango uses on his armor, gear, and weapons. It was familiar and _so Jango_. Obi-Wan closed his eyes to enjoy the feeling of being surrounded by familiarity to drown out the fear. He must have blacked out for a bit, because the next time he opened his eyes, he was laying on a medbay bed. The blanket that Jango made him and others underneath it were up to his chin and he was connected to a machine next to him. The medical droid was making little noises as it worked on the other side of the room. Jango was slumped, asleep in a chair next to him. Obi-Wan didn’t feel any different. He didn’t know if he was given a dose of the vaccine, so he slipped back into an unconscious state. 

Another time when he woke, his head felt like it was stuffed full of feathers and clouds. The Force around him was strong and joyful, happy to be connected with the ex-Jedi like old times. His head spun when he gathered the strength to check to see if a certain _Mando_ was at his bedside. Jango was, and Obi-Wan, for the life of him, couldn’t stop a goofy smile from spreading across his face (he blamed it on the meds he was probably pumped full of). 

Jango was looking back at him, holding one of his pale hands between both of his near his lips. “You should be resting.” 

“I am.” It didn’t even sound like him. He was drunk on medicine and the pure joy and affection of the Force around him. But that couldn’t be right… it wasn’t his own and it wasn’t all from the Force… Kriff, that was Jango, wasn’t it? The Force was so emotive because all of it was from Jango and it was surrounding them like a dense fog. 

Obi-Wan let out a sigh. His heart was starting to speed up; he could hear one of the machines keeping track of that. His hand was let go and tucked back under the sheets. 

“We’re going home. Roz will want to see us. Get more rest.” Jango was pressing some buttons, quieting the machine. 

He didn’t have to tell Obi-Wan twice (but didn’t he technically?). No matter, Obi-Wan was already tired from their little exchange and seeking the respite that sleep would offer. 

* * *

She walked through the dark halls. Most of the lights were off except for a few emergency lights illuminating the floor. Her eyes weren’t drawn to paintings on the walls like when she was younger, the paintings containing people the Mando’ade should aspire to be. The dark indigo carpet directed her steps, delicate white tiles framing the edge of where to walk and the bottom of the pale walls. No-one dared to stop her as she strode through the estate confidently. Her feet brought her to the appropriate room. She didn’t knock, opening the door and silencing the two voices in the room automatically. The other two didn’t speak as she approached the empty chair next to the armored man and across from her ori'vod behind the desk. 

“Why did you call this meeting?” her ori'vod asked. He sounded harsh but maybe the talks to fill the air while they waited for her didn’t go well. 

“Jango is alive,” she growled. She set her buy’ce on her lap. The buy’ce of the man beside her was hooked on his poleyn and looked like it was barely hanging on as he slumped in his chair. 

“Yeah, unfortunately,” the man beside her grumbled. 

Her ori'vod rolled his eyes and steepled his fingers. He also didn’t have the best posture in his plush chair. Their talk before she arrived must have been worse than she thought. Or maybe he had a stressful day. “Well, the Kyr'tsad sold him into slavery. That enraged him so he eventually escaped. Now he is known as the best bounty hunter in the galaxy.” 

“He needs to be captured and made a slave again to put him in his place…” the armored man beside her continued in his grumbling tone. 

Her ori'vod tsked. “The moral choice would be to kill him outright. Enslaving someone for differing views and the interactions between them and your ancestors is unjust.” 

“Mando’ad draar digu…” it was snarled by the armored man. 

“I’m sure he hasn’t either.” Words icy, enough to shut a Vizsla up. And they did. 

Her ori'vod pulled his gaze to his vod. His tone no longer resembled that of a teacher’s. “However… we’ve known Jango to be alive. He hasn’t posed a threat to Manda’yaim, the system, or our work, so we’ve left him alone. What is this about?” 

“The virus, facilities, and all data about the virus were destroyed. Vindi also fled and I can’t get in contact with him,” she reported, her voice shaking but that has been concluded to be natural by now and not from the nerves of being near a Vizsla. 

“By who?” Her ori'vod’s words were crisp. He sounded interested, like he actually cared, but he never wanted a virus to be made. The two across from him pushed for it and won the argument. Her ori'vod cared too much for morals and the rules of war, as he just expressed when saying it was better to kill Jango than enslave him. 

“Jango has a shadow or pet… I-I guess a student…” 

“And this student is…?” 

She swallowed. The name was like poison on her tongue. She hated saying, hearing, and seeing it. “Obi-Wan Kenobi.” 

The armored man next to her finally looked interested, no longer scowling. “Who is that?” 

But the siblings continued as if the man never spoke. 

“You’re positive?” 

“Absolutely,” she responded with confidence. 

“Who is Obi-Wan Kenobi?” the armored man snarled. He was sitting up straight now. His buy’ce now properly on his lap. 

“Have your scouts intercepted any noteworthy transmissions between his Mandos?” 

“Answer my questions!” 

The siblings quieted and looked at each other, slight hesitation gleaming in their eyes. The younger vod decided to speak. Her ori'vod wouldn’t be able to portray the same amount of hatred that she is able to. “Obi-Wan Kenobi is a jetii and the reason Satine is still alive and in power today.” 

She and her ori'vod were changed by the Kyr'tsad, something their _sister_ didn’t have the pleasure of experiencing. Their lives were probably only spared because they were of Clan Kryze and they held some semblance of power, even despite who the third major Kryze member was. But that didn’t make growing up easy. The Vizsla Clan always had it out for them. Her ori'vod’s ability to keep their heads above water with his political and speaking skills were what kept them alive and in power (somehow). His ability to manage their credits and fortune was also partially what kept the Kyr'tsad afloat and gave them their high ranks within it. Pre Vizsla would love to kick her out of the Kyr'tsad, or punish her in some way, but her ori'vod has threatened several times to stop funding the Kry’stad if he even tried. 

And _their_ ori'vod, who went through constant mental punishments, would defend Satine until his last breath because she was still family. He went through so many mini torture sessions made just for him because he was so level-headed and refused to become the simple-minded killing machine he was expected to be. He refused to cling to the ‘lessons’ that were supposed to inspire aggression and violence on his young, impressionable mind. No, instead, he became someone who would rather preach about money management, family, mythosaurs, and spit insults at any Vizsla when given the opportunity. So it was a surprise the man sitting next to his vod was still sitting there at all and not ranting and raving about the Kryze siblings and how much he hated them. In a way, it was strange to see that the youngest Kryze would become the angry Mando that they tried to create in her ori'vod. 

“Jango would never associate with a jetii after what happened on Galidraan,” the man sitting next to her said confidently. 

“Then he must not know,” her ori'vod mused. “Have your scouts come across anything on private channels?” 

His vod shook her head. “Nothing. Not only are their channels extremely secret, locked up, and hard to pin down, but Jango hasn’t been in contact with them since the Battle of Galidraan. He contacted one of his men after he escaped slavery but they haven’t spoken since. My scouts have come across very few of their comlink calls but they never mentioned Jango. At least they _think_ they’ve never mentioned Jango…” 

“We should threaten his Mandos, maybe he’ll come out then,” the man next to her proposed. 

“They’d deal with us themselves. Even if they would contact him, there’s no guarantee he would come to their rescue. If they’ve been out of contact for this long, I don’t see why he would come to aid them now.” Her ori'vod shrugged obnoxiously when the leader of the Kyr'tsad glowered at him. 

“Then what do you suggest?” the leader of the Kyr'tsad growled. 

“Bo’s scouts will keep an eye on them as best they can. I’ll come up with some plans. They will be set in motion eventually. Jango and Obi-Wan aren’t threats yet. We have some time before any direct action will need to be taken.” 

“The dar’manda and jetii just shut down our operation!” The Vizsla was on his feet. “You think letting them get away with it so we can think of a new approach is needed!? We should strike while they are still blind!” 

He could operate on his own, but he knows he risks the loss of Kryze funds if he acts without their—or specifically her ori'vod’s—approval. And not to mention that the Kryze ori'vod could probably sway most, if not the entirety, of the Kyr’tsad if Vizsla would do something he didn’t agree with, Darksaber in the picture or not. 

“No,” her ori'vod began sharply, “they will already be on edge. Striking now may empower Jango. Give it time.” He turned to his vod. “Have your scouts dig up more information. See how long Jango has been in possession of Kenobi. Seeing how long they have been working together may give us a good picture of how ready they’d be against a Kyr’tsad attack.” 

“Kenobi is a jetii, he is always ready for an attack,” the youngest Kryze vod objected with a growl. 

Both men were looking at her now. They seemed to be in agreement for the first time since the start of their meeting. Just so long as they don’t get big heads and try excluding her from any plans that may start to brew between them… She couldn’t see her ori'vod doing that, but the armored man had a very high chance of trying to work behind at least one of their backs. 

“There are ways to surprise a jetii, Lady Kryze,” the leader of the Kyr’tsad sneered darkly. His voice was lower than normal, making him sound like the snake her ori'vod liked to call him. “You just need to know _how to_ first…” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Translations:  
> hut'uun - coward  
> nu draar - no way, absolutely not (Mandos use double negatives for emphasis)  
> ori'vod - big or older brother  
> Kyr'tsad - Death Watch (Death Society), a breakaway Mandalorian  
> Mando’ad draar digu - a Mandalorian never forgets  
> vod - sibling, brother or sister  
> Manda’yaim - the planet Mandalore  
> jetii - Jedi  
> dar'manda - a state of not being Mandalorian—not an outsider but one who has lost their heritage, identity, and soul


	23. Chapter 23

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> sorry, I got cyberpunk 2077 and it has stolen literally all of my attention. for as buggy and glitchy as it is, it has a pretty solid story.

Obi-Wan was given no breathing room on their way to Outland. Jango was always somewhere nearby. Yes, he had a close brush with death, but he didn’t die, and he was able to make his way around _Jaster’s Legacy_ like a little old woman just fine, so being followed at all times was a bit unnecessary! 

According to the medical droid (and to an extent, Jango), Obi-Wan’s recovery was going horribly. Once the antidote was constructed and injected, Obi-Wan slowly came around but it took a whole cycle to shake his fever and his body was still fatigued. As soon as the antidote was administered, the medical droid wanted to give him some sedation and put him in the bacta tank for a little boost. However, Jango was adamant about not doing that because he was afraid Obi-Wan’s heart would be stopped from the effects of sedation and his body trying to recover from a virus that managed to tear apart the homeostasis of his body within a day. So, he wasn’t sedated and Jango had the medical droid send information about the antidote and virus to the senators including a report of all that they went through so the senators could adjust their pay and send over the proper amount of credits (more than the minimum of 50,000). 

Though, Obi-Wan was acutely aware that his own worrying was probably also slowing his recovery down. But could he really be blamed for his anxiety when he had a shocking revelation during the hour of his vaccine, when he was inebriated from medicine, and when his body was almost to the point of shutting down? He didn’t think he should be blamed. It wasn’t his fault that the Force was a bit too open and Jango was being so expressive at his bedside. He’s a thinker and so he was running his energy down by constantly worrying about where Jango was, what was on Jango’s mind, and how the kriff is he supposed to interact with the _Mand’alor_ when the _Mand’alor_ is fancying him. Jango obviously didn’t know what was running through the younger man’s mind and tried to calm his companion down but anything done usually just caused more panic. 

It was a three-and-a-half-standard-day journey from Druckenwell to Outland. Obi-Wan was basically out for the entirety of the first cycle. The first time he woke up with a clear head, he was still in the medbay and Jango was right there to inform him of the time. Then he helped Obi-Wan to his feet and walked with him to the lounge for a meal (after a quick check-up from the medical droid). It felt good to be on his feet, don’t get Obi-Wan wrong, but he had to lean against Jango (which didn’t help his stress levels) to get there because he felt so drained. They ate, Jango went to clean up in the refresher, Obi-Wan took his turn in the refresher after (with Jango lurking in his cabin), and they went about the remaining cycles like they were walking on eggshells (or that was just Obi-Wan). 

When it came to the night cycle, and it was time to sleep, there was another issue (still revolving around Jango). Obi-Wan had grown too comfortable sleeping next to another warm body. Simple as that. Jango asked to sleep on the floor of Obi-Wan’s cabin, next to the bed, because he was hesitant to let the younger man out of sight even when sleeping. He was asleep—snoring softly—but Obi-Wan’s mind was too awake and on high-alert to consider falling asleep. Then, when he turned over to look at Jango, a storm of thoughts brewing in his head, the man’s eyes opened at the faint sound. 

“What?” Jango asked quietly. For just waking up, his voice sounded clear like he was never asleep. 

Obi-Wan sighed to fill the air as he put the words together in his head. “Can I join you down there?” 

Jango sat up to gather the blankets around him hurriedly. “You shouldn’t sleep on the floor. I can join you up there; if you’re comfortable with that.” 

_There_. Obi-Wan felt his heart rate respond to the suggestion. “Sure,” he responded quietly. He watched the other man grab his blankets, bringing them with him as he effortlessly climbed over the younger man and settled behind him, between him and the wall, and spread the extra covers over and around them. 

And so they slept like that on the second night cycle. Jango was a bit closer to Obi-Wan in the morning cycle, but Obi-Wan couldn’t complain because he was feeling refreshed in the morning and didn’t suffer from any nightmares. 

Their third cycle in hyperspace went exactly as the first day did. The only difference was that Obi-Wan had a bit more strength; but Jango was still his shadow, he still worried during every standard hour, and he still wasn’t back to normal on his feet. He didn’t expect to be better in just a few days but he also didn’t expect to have gotten knocked off his feet so horribly after being sick for only a bit more than a day. 

During the third night cycle, Jango didn’t ask about sleeping on the floor because Obi-Wan—fighting through his anxiety—made a wordless motion to invite the other man to his cabin. Jango gave him a rare warm smile and accepted the invitation. They settled in the same position as the previous night. 

“You know Roz will have a fit if she finds out we’ve taken to sleeping together,” Jango murmured. His voice was loud in comparison to the silence that had briefly descended. 

Obi-Wan had been so focused on the attention that Jango had been giving him and the energy around him, he forgot to think about that. Did that mean their sleeping arrangement was over once they were back on Outland? Would it be over for good or only when they’re on Outland? 

He turned until he was facing Jango and very close to falling over the side of his bunk. He could very faintly see some of the man’s features, illuminated red from the little clock he keeps beside his bed. “So, what does that mean?” 

He heard and felt Jango shrug rather than see the action. “Could sneak into one room once she’s asleep. If you still need the arrangement, that is.” The ex-Jedi could detect some disappointment. Jango would rather keep the arrangement. “Probably don’t have to tell her but she’d figure it out if she sees both of us entering only one of our rooms. No matter what, we won’t hear the end of it.” 

Obi-Wan tittered, soft and nervous. It was a can of worms he wasn’t expecting. They should have never made their arrangement, in actuality. It made them _too_ reliant on each other. Jango probably enjoyed it, judging by how pleased he felt within the Force, but Obi-Wan restricted himself and still refused to look into it deeply. Maybe Jango was looking forward to letting Roz know of their arrangement as some type of perverse gossip. 

Jango breathed through his nose roughly. Hands managed to get ahold of Obi-Wan and drew him away from the edge of the bed to meet Jango in the middle. They were very close. Other times they were this close usually meant they were arguing or Obi-Wan was on the verge of a breakdown. Perhaps being this close would induce a breakdown and then telltale signs would remain true. 

“I take it that you don’t like the idea of her knowing…” Jango observed in a murmur. 

Was he hinting at Obi-Wan’s tense frame or his silence? Was Jango saying he _wanted_ to get teased mercilessly by the Toydarian? Jango was beginning to give off disappointment the longer he didn’t receive an answer. 

“It’s a new thought, is all,” Obi-Wan forced out. He didn’t plan for it and he would suffer the backlash from that unless he would somehow come up with an all-seeing answer before they arrive at Outland or is given the answer in a dream. “I forgot to think that far ahead.” 

Jango snorted softly. One of his hands managed to brush a lock of hair off Obi-Wan’s forehead perfectly. “Then I trust you’ll figure it out.” His hand then drifted down Obi-Wan’s side until he rested it on the slim waist for a few seconds then retracted his appendage. Obi-Wan released the breath he didn’t realize he was holding. 

The _Mand’alor_ drifted off to sleep slowly. Obi-Wan followed but at an even slower pace. There was too much on his mind and there wasn’t enough time to comprehend it all… 

Roz was waiting for them in the docking space for _Jaster’s Legacy_ in their private hangar. She fluttered in place directly next to where the boarding ramp would be extended. 

Obi-Wan felt even more nervous than before. Dealing with recovering and Jango was stressful and now he had to worry about Roz treating him just like Jango has; like a glass vase. And he also didn’t want to know how well she fared after they were done talking to her on Druckenwell. Jango hadn’t fared well and he was in the dark for only a few hours or so. Roz had been in the dark for the length of a Druckenwell day (basically 32 standard hours) and Obi-Wan had the virus in him several hours longer than that. 

Jango patted Obi-Wan on the shoulder as he went by the other man on his way out of the cockpit. Their items were all packed and sitting by the side exit. All they had to do was gather them and depart the ship… 

Jango extended the ramp and was talking to Roz through the entryway, waiting for Obi-Wan to join him. Obi-Wan was taking a few minutes for himself to calm down a bit more… It didn’t work, so he joined Jango, grabbing his bag to sling over his back, armor secured to it (visor included), and looked to Jango. Jango was wearing his base layer and flight suit, his _beskar’gam_ tied to his own bag already on his back. 

Jango motioned toward the exit. “After you. She wants to see you first.” 

Obi-Wan grew uncomfortable, yet he poked his head through the doorway. Roz was there by the ramp with Terry by her side, holding a blaster rifle and sparkling like a gold beacon. She waved when she saw the man looking at her. Jango gave him a nudge to get moving and followed after. 

“Dral, you’re looking good! So much better than what I thought you would look like!” Roz exclaimed. She moved forward to wrap her thin arms around Obi-Wan’s neck. Jango began to circle around Terry. 

“Thanks…” he mumbled. She pulled away to smile at him. 

“Roz, where is the droid’s restraining bolt?” Jango interrupted. He stopped in front of Terry, looking between it and Roz. “You know it’s dangerous to take a restraining bolt off a droid that is a model like this. Did you forget that it has parts from a _jetii_ training droid?” 

Roz rolled her eyes dramatically and turned to face Jango, putting an arm around Obi-Wan’s shoulder. “I do, but Terry has proven herself. And, by the way, Terry would like to be addressed with she/her and not _it_ anymore.” 

Terry made a little motion with her head. “That is correct. I have sworn to follow Rozatta’s orders and protect her with my life.” Her voice was different from the last time Obi-Wan heard it. It wasn’t as deep and droid-like. 

Jango was squinting harshly. “And you know that TC-SC infiltration droids can go delusional? We don’t necessarily have the equipment or skill to _delicately_ rewrite this type of droid’s memory.” 

“But that’s only for those that are outfitted with a multispectrum disguise suite and use it,” Obi-Wan defended. 

“This one has that.” 

Obi-Wan bit his lip and found the droid staring at him with her red sensors. He didn’t hate droids, except for the Trade Federation’s droid army. Terry would be the first TC-SC infiltration droid he has ever met. He fought against the Jedi training droids as a Padawan and youngling, so he knew how deadly Terry could be. He has already trained with Terry when Jango first brought her onboard. She was definitely capable and a hypocritical creation, given the risk of delusion yet possibly possessing a Jedi training droid memory (and requiring her memories to function properly). 

“I say give her a chance, Jango.” 

Terry’s sensors slid from Obi-Wan to Jango. Jango looked at the droid then Obi-Wan and Roz. He was frowning. “Fine, but Roz has to keep a restraining bolt with her at all times just in case.” 

“Sure thing, Fett…” Roz assured, but she didn’t sound honest and both men knew she probably wouldn’t keep a bolt with her. “How about we focus on Dral now, hmm? Poor kid had a brush with death but you would rather stand out here and talk about how Terry has no manners.” 

Obi-Wan’s sunburn was long gone by now, so he wasn’t able to hide his reddening face. He wasn’t a kid… 

Jango bowed his head. “He survived the journey, but whatever.” Back to his grumpy self. He displayed that same emotion in the Force but Obi-Wan was beginning to believe it was a front. 

Roz fluttered away from Obi-Wan to finally give him some space. “Well, let’s drop your stuff off in your rooms. You can tell me all about your vacation and the job on the way to the hospital. I made you both appointments to make sure you’re on the road to recovery, Dral, and to make sure that you didn’t catch anything, Jango.” 

So they did that. They headed to their rooms to drop their things off and headed to the nearby medical facility. Roz and Terry went with them but stayed in the waiting room while a nurse escorted Jango and Obi-Wan to the same private room (since there was the chance that Jango could be carrying the virus after being in close quarters with Obi-Wan for several days. Though, if Jango had it, he probably would have been showing symptoms of it already). 

The nurse took individual evaluations. Each man was brought to a different room to measure height and weight. According to Jango, he has visited the medical center before so they would have a file on him. Obi-Wan, meanwhile, hasn’t, so they may require more tests and questions from him than Jango, other than questions asking how he was feeling at the moment. They both got their blood drawn and samples of their spit then were left alone in the room until the doctor arrived. 

They were asked about what happened exactly so they took turns explaining that Obi-Wan got a virus injected into him and the quick onset of symptoms. It was an unknown virus so the doctor didn’t really have any advice for them. Their blood and spit were getting tested but if Jango hadn’t shown any symptoms yet, then there was a very high chance that he was fine. 

The doctor went over a few other things. Jango was good overall. Pretty much the same height and weight that he was when he came in the last time. Obi-Wan was the same height that he was when he got check-ups as a Jedi but his weight had dropped a substantial amount, enough to make him be considered underweight and a potentially dangerous weight for someone of his stature and lifestyle. And by the sounds of his symptoms from the previous days, he might have unhealthily lost some of his weight in a very short amount of time. Oops… 

Jango was studious on the outside but Obi-Wan picked up on his stress. He asked about ways to get his companion to gain weight and how much he would be able to push exercising and daily activities in his state. 

The doctor chuckled. They gave a response that was borderline sarcastic, “Mercenaries like yourselves don’t know how to slow down and wait for wounds to heal, but I’ll still educate you in case if you two are finally the ones to listen. Mr. Khor will need to eat a lot to gain back what he lost and/or gain more than what he already had. Small meals, constant snacking, foods rich in protein and high in calories, extra calories, carbs, and fiber are what he needs. No caffeine, though, and go easy on the liquids. As for the state of the rest of his body? He’s weak, but he’ll regain his strength as he snaps out of his sickness spell. He can keep exercising, but watch what you do because exercising too much will burn off anything he gains. He didn’t break a bone so he can continue with daily activities and he will be able to do things himself but don’t be surprised if he runs out of energy quickly because as I said, he needs to snap out of his spell.” 

“So don’t do anything…” Obi-Wan sighed. 

“Pretty much,” the doctor agreed with him. “We’ll get back to you on your tests but I am confident that you two are in the clear.” 

Jango elbowed him lightly in the side. “That means Roz gets to pamper you.” 

They were led back to the waiting room to greet Roz and Terry (who was getting a lot of stares because the droid was still carrying her blaster and was oblivious to onlookers’ fear). They left to return to their living quarters and explained the doctor’s words on the way. 

They finished out the day by relaxing. Terry mysteriously disappeared, but Roz explained that she gave one of the rooms to the droid so she had somewhere to go when Roz wasn’t in need of protection. It was also a place for the droid to go and complete her own little activities instead of standing around like a droid wearing a restraining bolt. Jango was giving Roz a very odd look because he didn’t share the sentiment. 

Their final meal of the day was a bit odd of a meal. Jango had spent a great deal of his time researching things to eat because he was focused on finding meals with high protein and calories. He decided to make omelets filled with cheese and almond oat cookies for dessert. A meal focused around protein, that’s for sure. It was good; still odd, but it had Roz laughing and brightening up the room. 

After eating, they sat around to drink _ne’tra gal_ while watching pit fighting reruns they missed. Obi-Wan still wasn’t a fan of the fights but tonight he had alcohol to distract himself. Roz and Jango’s chanting and cheering would just be background noise if he drinks enough, especially since he wasn’t filtering his systems (so drinking bottle after bottle probably wasn’t a good idea, especially since he declared last time he drank he wouldn’t drink with Jango ever again. An alternative to filtering his system would be to not drink but tonight he really just wanted to relax before his new diet and daily exercises are monitored by Jango and Roz (and Terry if they are crazy enough)). 

They all parted for bed at the same time. In his room, Obi-Wan was organizing his things; throwing his dirtied clothes and clothes he bought on Alderaan into the laundry, putting his hygienic products in the refresher, setting his armor and bag next to his dresser, and spreading his new blanket on the bed. Then he went to the ‘fresher to get his shower and brushed his teeth. He was thoroughly exhausted by the time he was dressed in his sleeping clothes and combing through his damp hair. And by the time he was exiting the ‘fresher, there was a knock on his door. 

Jango. Not a surprise—considering their conversation during the final sleep cycle on _Jaster’s Legacy_ —yet Obi-Wan blinked at him blearily because his mind was a bit slow processing at the moment. Nonetheless, he took a step to the side to let Jango in. 

“Are you drunk?” was the first thing Jango asked, followed by, “You’re _still_ using curtains over walls for your bedroom?” 

“Yes and yes,” Obi-Wan replied. He made sure the door locked behind Jango once he stepped through the threshold. “So we’re doing sleepovers behind Roz’s back?” 

Jango shrugged as he looked around the room. “At least for tonight. If you _want_ to keep doing this then we either be blatant and let her figure it out or we can try to be as secretive as possible.” 

Obi-Wan shrugged and led the way to his bedroom. He held the curtain aside for Jango and entered after the man. “I’m not in a good enough mental state to think.” 

“That’s fine.” 

Obi-Wan approached the control panel on the wall to dim the lights, setting a short timer so he and Jango would be settled by the time it was completely dark, then approached the bed to slide under the covers. Jango was already trying to get situated under the blankets so Obi-Wan watched him, feeling particularly sluggish. The _Mand’alor_ finally settled down as the lights were turning off. 

Obi-Wan’s eyelids were heavy after the day he’s had and the amount of alcohol he consumed. His senses were dulled and made it hard to read the Force. Distantly, he was aware of Jango expressing some jitters but didn’t think much of it. 

“ _Liser ni taylir gar_?” Jango asked softly, barely audible. 

Obi-Wan’s brain was working independently from his lips. “ _‘Lek_.” He turned on his side, barely opening his eyes, and moved in Jango’s direction. The other man was quick after getting an affirmative. He scooted toward the younger man and was already wrapping his arms around Obi-Wan’s waist gently. He leaned his head against Obi-Wan’s chest and relaxed immediately. 

Alarm bells rang in the ex-Jedi’s head but they were muffled by alcohol. Since he was ignoring the rational part of his brain, he focused on the warmth around him and basked in the positive emotions in the Force. His hands came up on their own accord to knead Jango’s scalp and play with the small curls with his fingers. Jango’s enjoyment bloomed as bright as a star in the Force, Obi-Wan would have blinded by it if he was sober. Rather, the dilution of it just seemed to add to Obi-Wan’s drunkenness. It all stacked against him and eventually, Obi-Wan was asleep. 

When he awoke in the morning cycle, soothing circles were getting massaged into his lower back. He curled around the heat source by his stomach more and pressed the side of his face against it. Soap that smelled a lot like the flower scent Roz supplied them with invaded his nose. Hair tickled his cheek. 

“I should probably leave before we risk Roz seeing,” Jango rumbled into Obi-Wan’s stomach. 

Obi-Wan released Jango’s head and he was released from the hug he was encapsulated in all night. Obi-Wan rubbed his eyes as they moved away from each other. He hung his legs over the side of the bed and sat there as Jango was getting out of bed on the other side. The Force was oddly quiet and subdued, a dramatic change from the night before. Why did things feel final, like he and Jango just had a tryst and now Jango was going to perform the walk of shame? Something was wrong. A deep weight settled in Obi-Wan’s gut and made his limbs feel too heavy at once. 

“Wha…” his mouth tried to form words but nothing came out. Jango was lingering by the split in the curtains. Obi-Wan could feel the brown eyes searing into the back of his head. 

He felt something was wrong because something had changed. Kriff… he should have actually spent time on _Jaster’s Legacy_ to properly think things through instead of worrying the entire time on their way back. Now his entire being was off balance and the thought of _Jango_ was something he wasn’t sure he would be able to shake. The image of the _Mand’alor_ was frozen in the back of his mind and his presence in the Force was so easily recognizable. 

Obi-Wan rubbed his eyes extra hard as he felt the tempo of his heart begin to speed up. 

“Nothing,” he managed and bit the collar of his shirt right after. “I’ll see you at first meal.” 

“All right…” Jango trailed off slowly. He showed himself out. 

Once he was alone, Obi-Wan bolted off the bed and went to the dresser to check the drawer that held most of his Jedi belongings. Locked. His lightsabers, vest, and stone were untouched. Good. They were still undiscovered… 

He grabbed his clothes for the day and went to the refresher to get a quick shower. But that quick shower turned into an uncounted time as he stood under the hot water and stared in the distance, refusing to acknowledge anything he was feeling and deciding to shove them in the back of his mind until he had more time to address them later (or until they built up and exploded or until he got frustrated and shoved it all into the Force so he didn’t have to deal with it ever again. Shoving his emotions into the Force was the easy and extremely desirable option at the moment). 

But his shower couldn’t last forever. Eventually, Obi-Wan stepped out, dried off, got dressed, and did his morning routine. He emerged from his room feeling worn out already. And the food was already served… 

A diet of protein, it would seem… Obi-Wan kept his sigh internal. He appreciated Jango making the meal, but he found himself hoping he snapped out of his ‘sickness spell’ and gained some weight quickly so he could return to his normal diet and start exercising to spend some of his energy… 

* * *

Two standard weeks went by. It took a full week and two days for Obi-Wan to feel normal again but Jango didn’t let him exercise until a full two standard weeks passed. Every meal was something to help him gain weight and retain energy. Roz got sick of the diet and started making her own meals after just a few days. 

They still didn’t do a lot of exercises. Jango finally allowed Obi-Wan into the gym after the two-week mark but had activities controlled like a mother who was afraid to let her child play on a playground. They started things out easy just to see how well Obi-Wan responded. It felt good after 10 days of doing nothing productive. He got into the motions easily and enjoyed the burn in his muscles as his body was preparing to burn off the extra calories it didn’t need… But Jango didn’t let that happen. Whenever they were reaching the peak of activity—when Obi-Wan was starting to sweat—he ended it. The first time he did that, Obi-Wan was fine with it but only because he thought Jango just wanted to keep things simple and gradually get more intense. But when it happened day after day, Obi-Wan was growing more and more frustrated. 

He let that go on for a week before he decided to sneak out of bed, during the first time he was sleeping in Jango’s much more lived-in room (though the room had been too dark to really see anything), to have his own session in the gym where he could control the pace. He exercised for about a standard hour or two; until he was sweating and shaking from how hard he worked. He found that Jango locked him out for the night so he slept fitfully, alone, in his own room. During the morning of the next day, he received a particularly harsh glare from the _Mand’alor_ but he stood his own ground. Roz gave them both weird looks but must have decided it was best to stay out of the ensuing argument. 

They had a _small_ argument when they were left alone. Jango was angry, simple as that. He knew Obi-Wan left to go exercise. Obi-Wan didn’t deny it. After all, he was tired of sitting around and having a specific diet and having his exercise regimen controlled by someone else. 

“Even though it’s for your health?” it was nearly spat because the _Mand’alor_ was so keyed up. 

“Even though it’s for my health.” His own words were full of his heat. He was serious! The Jedi never cared so much about Obi-Wan’s fast metabolism and small diet. Kencha and Qui-Gon never restricted him to a diet… but in their defense, neither of them were probably aware of Obi-Wan’s metabolism and thought he got enough to eat. His Jedi robes were always so thick and he refused to wear thin and restricting clothes when he wasn’t required to wear his robes… 

“ _Utreekov_ ,” Jango hissed. He faced away and brought his hands up to rub at his temples like he was trying to wish a headache away. “I swear you are suicidal…” 

Obi-Wan scowled. He continued to scowl, even when he had Jango looking at him. “I am not. I just want to get back to work. I’m not retired yet, so I’m not going to continue to sit around and let my diet and exercising be managed by someone else!” 

Jango’s lip started to curl in a sneer. Oddly, he stayed quiet. 

During their fourth week of being at Outland Station, Jango relented and kicked training up a notch. It was a large change. The very first day, he was out for blood. During a sparring session, he managed to dislocate Obi-Wan’s right shoulder after slamming the younger man onto the mats. Obi-Wan had laid there for a moment, too stunned to do anything as the adrenaline was quickly leaving his body so he could deal with the pain himself. Jango apologized profusely as he helped pop the joint back in place. 

Needless to say, their day pretty much ended there. Obi-Wan also decided to sleep alone that night so he could have the space to nurse his shoulder through the sleep cycle. The remaining days of the week were tentative and the pace during practice was set by Obi-Wan. 

* * *

It was Centaxday, their sixth week on Outland Station. Obi-Wan was no longer going stir crazy. Don’t get him wrong, he wanted to go on a job, but being stuck on the station was more manageable when he was able to do something and didn’t have a freshly dislocated arm. 

He and Jango were just finishing a several-hour session of different activities. They were leaving the private gym together when Obi-Wan felt something different in the Force. He gripped the ends of the towel hanging around his neck and almost came to a stop. Another Force user. He gathered his presence in the Force and pulled it inward, masking his Jedi-ness and forcing his presence to appear as any non-Force user. 

To his luck, Jango didn’t seem to notice a change in his companion. He was still coming down from the high of a refreshing exercise. 

They entered their shared living space. Roz was sitting at the table with an orange humanoid creature about the same size as her, wearing weird little goggles. They turned to look at the approaching men. The orange humanoid smiled at them pleasantly. 

“Boys! I want you to meet Maz Kanata!” Roz announced. “She’s a pirate queen, a friend of mine, _and_ she has a job offer for you.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Translations:  
> Liser ni taylir gar? - Can I hold you?  
> 'Lek - yeah  
> Utreekov - fool, idiot


	24. Chapter 24

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter is a bit shorter than the norm. It got bigger during the final edit but it is still short. This arc, in general, is short. I'm making up for it later. 
> 
> Also, I'm still very distracted by Cyberpunk, but I'm slowing down and gradually returning to writing.

Pirates. Obi-Wan was not interested in working with pirates. In reality, they aren’t much better than smugglers. Depending on who you talked to, they may even say that pirates are worse than smugglers (because at least smugglers will have codes they follow and don’t (usually?) partake in raids on others. Obi-Wan could be very wrong, though, he’s mostly only heard stories). Yet, as he and Jango joined Roz and Maz at the table, she didn’t seem like a pirate at all. But maybe he was giving her too much credit. Looks can be deceiving. 

“Introductions are in order…” Roz began. 

Maz chuckled lightly. “Well, I already know who your Mando is. Jango Fett.” She held out a small hand to shake and the _Mand’alor_ accepted it. “Renown bounty hunter. It’s a pleasure to finally meet you.” 

All Jango did was nod in return, displaying a humbled visage. 

Roz grunted. “Well, this is Dral Khor. He/him. He’s Jango’s student. Been part of the family for a few long months now.” 

Maz looked a bit more excited as she and Obi-Wan shook hands. “It’s a pleasure to meet you. You must be quite skilled if Fett has taken you under his wing. I can feel that you are both powerful, and there is a bond between you two that is hard to find between other warriors.” 

Obi-Wan felt his face begin to grow warm as he pulled his hand back to his side. Are they getting outed? 

“You’re a _jetii_?” Jango soured immediately. 

“No.” Maz corrected, “Force-sensitive. Much different than simply being a Jedi.” 

“You speak _Mando’a_?” Obi-Wan asked curiously. It caused Maz to laugh. 

“No, but it doesn’t take a genius to know what he said. Mandos and Jedi don’t have a good relationship.” 

“Roz, how do you know her?” Jango growled. He was suspicious—no surprises there—but he wasn’t ready to tear their guest’s head off yet. Obi-Wan realized that this was a good opportunity to learn how another Force-sensitive responds to Jango and to see how Jango reacts. Seeing how to handle the fiery _Mand’alor_ before Obi-Wan reveals himself to be Force-sensitive is extremely useful. 

“I didn’t always run the station, Jango,” Roz sighed. “I was once a pirate myself. Maz has been a friend ever since I met her. She can be a friend to you also if you would _let_ her.” 

Jango’s nose wrinkled. He leaned back in his seat, crossed his arms, and stayed silent. 

“All right… I came here because I have a job offer,” Maz started. She seemed to be waiting for another protest but it didn’t come. “There’s a male Barabel who decided to break some of my rules when he was visiting my place on Takodana. His name is Baraduk and some whispers tell me that he is on Nal Hutta. Rough him up as much as you like, but I need him brought in alive. He’s in Bilbousa, specifically. Normally I would only pay about 3,000 credits but I will bump pay up to 15,000 just for you.” 

Jango grinned. “I _am_ in high demand.” Obi-Wan rolled his eyes. “We’ll accept, Kanata.” 

“Great!” Roz barked. Her joy was gone and replaced with seriousness in a flash. “Now you need to leave, Jango. We need to talk to Dral alone.” 

Obi-Wan looked between the two women. “Am I in trouble?” 

“Yes,” came a grim response from Roz. What? “Go to the main pit fighting arena, Jango. Terry is overseeing the set-up of tonight’s match. Give her any help she may need.” 

Jango was alert and looking between everyone. After no one spoke, he slowly stood. Before leaving the room, he squeezed Obi-Wan’s shoulder reassuringly, then was on his way. 

Roz was watching Maz, who had her eyes closed and was humming lowly. The orange woman opened her eyes eventually. “He is a safe distance away.” Both women were looking at Obi-Wan, but Maz was the one to speak, “You are a Jedi.” 

An icy feeling spread through Obi-Wan’s veins. His expression hardened. “I _was_ a Jedi. I am no longer. That life is behind me.” 

Maz tilted her head. Her expression was the exact opposite of his, soft and open. “All Force users are Jedi in the eyes of those who don’t understand, as you just witnessed. Roz has told me a bit about you. The information that stood out to me the most is that you’re pretending to not be a Jedi, despite being one in the past, while you are the student to legendary Mandalorian and bounty hunter Jango Fett, who faced the slaughtering of his people from the Jedi.” 

So Jango has said once before. He not only hated Jedi for the Battle of Galidraan, but he also hated them for how they attain members, for how careless they are with those who are cast out, and for how they only care about the Core Worlds despite being the proclaimed peacekeepers of the galaxy. He had good reasons to hate the Jedi but was way too quick to label them negatively without any background information. 

“And…?” 

Maz shrugged. “I wanted to meet you. You are in quite a predicament, aren’t you? You’ve spent many months hiding. Jedi-hater, True Mandalorian leader Jango Fett would not only happily kill you for being a Jedi in the past, but he also gives the impression within the Force that he would like to take you to his room and make love to you all night long.” 

Obi-Wan’s eyes widened without his own doing. He stared down at the table. His cheeks and ears exploded with heat. He didn’t even dare look at either of them when he heard Roz chuckle. She wasn’t surprised? 

“You are mistaken. You aren’t properly trained in the Force, you must be reading things wrong,” he sputtered. 

“I’ve been alive a lot longer than you, child. The Jedi may not have trained me, but I have more of a grip on the Force than you,” Maz said gently, despite the connotation of her words. “You are pulling the Force toward you right now like a black hole. It’s a sign of true skill, and you’re undetectable in the Force, but the Force getting drawn to a person with no presence is suspicious. Roz also told me that you left the Order because you accessed the dark side of the Force, something a Jedi shouldn’t do. But that’s not the entirety… what else tore you away from the Order?” 

Obi-Wan briefly thought of Qui-Gon. The last time he saw him was when he was visiting Coruscant with Jango the first time. He was grabbed by his old Master and had his midi-chlorian count tested against his will. He probably reported Obi-Wan’s midi-chlorian count back to the Council. If he stayed in the Order, the Council would have made an experiment out of him. But Qui-Gon wasn’t the only reason for his downfall that led to him leaving the Order, despite their historically rocky relationship. Kencha’s death was probably just the first straw. It’s just that now, if the Council saw him as a threat, they won’t hesitate to eliminate him. Who knows how long until he may actually be seen as a threat to them… 

He couldn’t put his thoughts into words so he let a mental wall down partially to broadcast his emotions. He let Maz have access to his deep, venomous thoughts about his midi-chlorian count and what other issues that led to and from it. They were thoughts that were unbefitting of a Jedi and could turn a weak-minded Force-sensitive to the dark side with very few issues. Once he was sure Maz viewed what he was offering, he buried those emotions and put the mental wall back up. His mind was buzzing from the act, his lungs almost feeling a bit winded. He wouldn’t be surprised if he just reached out to the dark side, proving his own point. 

Maz slowly leaned back, her lips making an ‘o’ shape as she digested what was just presented. Roz was looking between them but didn’t look alarmed or overly curious like Jango might. She accepted that it was something she might not understand. 

“You are a troubled soul,” Maz murmured. “You flee the Jedi in an attempt to escape becoming a monster yet risk endangering yourself and others around you due to lack of knowledge. There’s no one for you to talk to who would understand. No one, at the very least, at the ready. And if you can’t keep things under control, you will be hunted down as if you were a criminal.” 

Obi-Wan’s breath hitched. He didn’t like hearing it out loud. She was right about it all. He endangers Roz and Jango through general ignorance of his own abilities any time he is in either of their presences. He endangers Jango every night they sleep next to each other. He could have a nightmare, lash out with the Force, and kill him in some sort of way. Or, even if he didn’t kill Jango, he would have revealed himself as a Force user and Jango might try to kill him. 

To make it all worse, he can’t even go to anyone for help. He’s the first documented Jedi in history to suffer a changing midi-chlorian count, and since he’s no longer a Jedi, he can’t get the proper help to control himself anymore. It’s rare to find a knowledgeable Force-sensitive outside of the Order. Besides, most Force-sensitives outside of the Order prefer to lay low due to the stigma often related to the Jedi and being Force-sensitive (a prime example being Jango and his understanding of what a Jedi is). 

“Roz, what was this for?” Obi-Wan muttered. He rubbed his forehead with one hand. He didn’t have a headache yet but one had the chance to start building very soon… 

“I wanted to check in with you, put you in contact with another Force-sensitive. We don’t get many opportunities to talk privately.” Her voice was soft and loving, it was hard to blame her for how hollow Obi-Wan felt. “You’re a Jedi being taught by a man who hates Jedi for being Jedi. I know it’s hard for you.” 

She didn’t know half of it. He was growing closer and closer to Jango every day and he can’t even talk to the man about his past or deeply personal things because he has been fed lies ever since they met. Then he can’t go to Roz because she’s either too busy all the time or because they’re out on jobs and he has no privacy to contact her (and he also doesn’t want to bother her but there’s still no guarantee that she would be free for a chat). 

It was all crashing down. His identity wasn’t at risk—at the moment—but everything mental was twisting in knots and becoming tendrils of dark thoughts and uncertainties. He shouldn’t have left the Jedi Order. He should have submitted and allowed himself to become an experiment so he never would have become the monster-in-the-making that he is now. He never should have become Qui-Gon’s Padawan. He should have stayed in exile on Melida/Daan. He should have stayed a slave on Ryloth. 

Maz brushed against him in the Force, trying to comfort him. He lashed out reactively, also in the Force, and she noticeably flinched. It was accidental but he stood by his mistake. His eyes were wet and his breath was coming in short pants. He needed to be alone. Jango was sent off to be entertained by Terry. Meanwhile, Roz has Maz to chat with. Obi-Wan would have time alone. 

“I need to be alone,” he began shakily. He stood up from the table. Neither woman made a move to stop him so he went for the exit, not his room. 

He knows his way around Outland pretty well at this point but he knows his way around Outland’s private passages even better. 

He located the nearest entrance and slipped through the smaller-than-normal doorway, heading up the ascending paths. There were a lot of stairs and climbing to get to where he wanted to go but it would be worth it. 

Along the entire perimeter of the station were large windows for viewing out of. At the very top of the station was a lounge only accessible through the secret passageways. The ceiling of it, where the angles came to a point, was made completely out of windows. The lounge was otherwise carpeted with a midnight blue shag rug and contained plush white furniture in a semi-circle along the edge of the room. It was unclear who visits the lounge out of the three of them. It would make sense for Roz to visit it but Jango, who is almost always somewhere near Obi-Wan, didn’t have the time (or maybe even patience) to visit it alone, and he has never visited it with Obi-Wan. Maintenance droids were the only other beings on the station with the authorization to enter it but they probably lack the proper sentience to use the lounge properly. 

Obi-Wan eventually emerged in the room, opening the trap door to enter the closed-off space and shutting it behind him. The dim lights turned on automatically. 

A sense of peace filled Obi-Wan as his legs carried him to one of the couches and then released him there. He laid on his side, pressing his cheek against the cushion then turning on his back to stare at the stars. All in different systems containing different planets with their own populations. All planets with different stories and cultures. All different places where he could have ended up instead of Outland. 

Any happy thoughts or emotions would only be temporary. The serenity that Obi-Wan usually feels when in the lounge was barely there. He couldn’t even enjoy this. He had better luck of finding something positive in mingling with the crowd in Merchant Row. But instead, he decided to pull the quilt (briefly wondering if Jango made it) off the back of the couch to cover up with. He’ll take a nap. Maybe he can work some things out in his sleep or some of his emotions will have died down by the time he wakes. 

And what, should he be surprised that his rest was full of turmoil? Sleeping next to Jango has managed to calm his dreams during sleep but his presence isn’t an impenetrable force; wisps of dreams—nightmares, basically—still occasionally plague Obi-Wan. The bad thing was that it wasn’t a repeated dream or Sith-centered. New dreams required attention that Obi-Wan currently didn’t have time to give them because they could either be a vision, a hint at a vision, or just a dream created by his imagination. Total opposites and too alarming. Especially when he dreamt he was looking through the windshield of _Jaster’s Legacy_ and at a burning Outland Station. It’s all he had time for before he startled himself awake, still alone in the lounge, and decided to return to the main living area. 

Maz was still there with Roz and Jango had returned with Terry, so they ate a quick meal together, attended some of the pit fightings, then Jango and Obi-Wan left before the night cycle officially set in so they could get things prepped for their new job. 

Obi-Wan didn’t think Maz was a bad person—even Jango was a bit calmer in her presence now—but he couldn’t shake the eerie feeling that came with watching Outland Transit Station burn in his sleep. She had given him a thoughtful look before they parted ways, probably sensing Obi-Wan’s unease. He wasn’t doing a good job of hiding it; Jango didn’t appear to catch on because he thought Obi-Wan’s unease was from the outed Force-sensitive in their midst. 

* * *

Nal Hutta was disgusting. It was a planet that Obi-Wan would be happy never visiting again. It was hot and humid and the air carried a particular stench to it that not even the fabric covering his lower face could properly filter out. Pieces of rotting architecture littered the swamps of the countryside. 

Bilbousa was just as, if not more, disgusting than the planet itself. Shady characters walked the pathways and inhabited the buildings. Junk and litter scattered the streets. Many sets of eyes were on them as they walked through Bilbousa. It was either because there was a Mandalorian, a common warrior-type that hide in run-down places like this, walking through their city, or because they haven’t seen a Mandalorian in a long time. If it was either one, they had to keep an eye out no matter what. Someone might try to get handsy and rob them or try to swindle them. There was no telling in ports like this. 

There were too many people in the city to randomly come across Baraduk. He could be at Gardulla the Hutt’s Palace for all they know. Jango mentioned that possibility and didn’t seem too happy about it. 

After visiting several shops, they had no information. They visited some of the cantinas and had two leads: Gardulla the Hutt’s Palace and some of the old factories outside of the city. Both were terrible options. Fiends and criminals probably hid in the old factories and it could be potentially hard to enter the Hutt palace without proper invitation. Rumor is that Gardulla owns a young krayt dragon and she feeds intruders to it. But whichever option they chose, they would have to return to _Jaster’s Legacy_ for the speeder bike to reach their destinations because the factories were too far out of a walk and the only way to reach Gardulla the Hutt’s Palace was on a hovering transport or a transport that could make it through the swamps. 

Back at the ship, they were talking in the cargo bay. Jango was leaning against the wall near the ramp. His arms were crossed and his _buy’ce_ was off, looking the definition of peeved but not feeling that way in the Force. 

“Food for thought?” he questioned. 

Obi-Wan was sitting on a crate with the prototype rifle on his lap. “I can’t say I’m too familiar with the Hutt who lives on this planet, but my gut tells me that Baraduk might not be in the factories. If he knows he’s in trouble, he would try to find someone to protect him. Hiding out in a factory would be too dangerous and he leaves himself vulnerable. He would just be waiting for capture, possibly with a trap set, if he was in a factory.” 

“You don’t want to check at all? The closest factory is the sturdiest one. He could be hiding there. He has a bit of a head start, he could have rallied some of the locals to protect him.” 

“Well since he has a head start, he could have easily gone to Gardulla and got whatever protection he required there.” Jango was biting his lip and looking doubtful. “You’re not afraid of the Hutts, are you? Is this why you’re trying to visit the factories first?” 

“I’m not afraid of the Hutts,” Jango corrected in a snap. Oh, but the seething anger in his eyes may say otherwise. If he’s not afraid of the Hutts, then it’s something else. “I don’t like getting involved with Hutts. They are slimy, overgrown, _chakaaryc_ worms who deserve to go rot in their own slave bullpens for the rest of their long, miserable lives without reprieve.” 

There it was. He may be a bit fearful of the Hutts, but his anger and hatred overpowered it. His own time in slavery was the fuel for his fire. 

Obi-Wan nodded. “Fine. We can check that singular factory. If we don’t come across Baraduk, then we head to the palace. Is that fine by you?” 

Jango pushed away from the wall. “It’s not fine by me but I will agree to it.” 

They collected their things before departing _Jaster’s Legacy_ again. Obi-Wan drove the speeder bike down the ramp so Jango could lock everything up (but Jango took over and drove them out to the factory). 

And what did they find when they arrived at the factory? Not Baraduk. There were some squatters and what looked like a couple of children trying to hide from the mercenaries as if they were afraid they would get taken back to their parents. Questioning the people present was pointless because all they got were dirty looks and very few answers that weren’t even solid. Simply put, it was a waste of time to visit the factory. Then, Jango insisted they visit the next closest building but had the same, if not more disappointing, results. 

Baraduk had to be at Gardulla the Hutt’s Palace. 

They made their way to the palace by tracing their path through the swamps on the outer city, then going through Bilbousa until they were on the only road that would take them to the secluded building. The road eventually disappeared into the swamp waters, but their speeder bike carried them over the water effortlessly. 

When they arrived, Jango parked the speeder near the other vehicles in an attempt to blend in and led the way toward the entrance. Though, before ascending the stairs to the building, two Gamorreans blocked the way. A Weequay stood to the side and straightened when they took in the sight of a Mandalorian and companion. 

“I can’t say I’ve ever seen either of you before. Do you have an appointment or Gardulla’s blessing?” they asked with a rough voice. “You can’t enter without one.” 

Obi-Wan heard Jango growl beneath his _buy’ce_. His hands formed fists at his sides, too, but he unclenched them and began, “We have neither, but a Barabel by the name of Baraduk told us to meet him here. We have business to discuss and nowhere else to meet.” 

The Weequay raised a brow. “Oh, really? Then I hope you don’t mind waiting here while I go contact this Baraduk?” 

“ _Please_.” 

Obi-Wan bumped his hand against Jango’s thigh as a warning to not get too snippy. 

They watched the Weequay ascend the stairs and moved off to the side so they weren’t a nuisance to those who actually had appointments or Gardulla’s blessing. And surprisingly, they weren’t waiting long before the Weequay descended the stairs and addressed them. 

“Baraduk didn’t confirm your appearances but he agreed that you were meeting. If you’ll follow me…” 

Jango and Obi-Wan looked at each other before they started to follow the Weequay. Baraduk agreeing to meet them was as equally good as it was bad. It pretty much meant they were walking into a trap. 

_“Be ready for anything,”_ Jango said over comms. His external mic was muted. Obi-Wan nodded his head minutely in response. 

The Weequay led them up the stairs and through several halls before they were motioning for the bounty hunters to enter a square, barren room lit by a singular light overhead. 

“What is this?” Jango demanded. 

“The room Baraduk instructed me to bring you to,” the Weequay responded with a bored tone. “I am just following orders.” And then they left, closing the door behind them and leaving Jango and Obi-Wan alone. 

Jango approached the door when they were officially alone and found that he was unable to open it. 

Obi-Wan was beginning to feel a bad feeling creeping up but he supposed it was too late when a canister flew out of the wall and started leaking a green gas. The first thing he did was inhale, and it was the exact opposite thing he should have done. Following the no-filtering rule he has put himself under whenever he is in the presence of Jango really screwed him over this time. The green gas was seeping right through his neck gaiter and hitting his brain like a ship going at full speed. 

He spun around, and Jango was right there, so he clung to the man. His thoughts were speeding up and slowing down at the same time, all while the world was fading out on him. His mouth was dry and his tongue became too fat to speak. 

Jango gripped him tightly in return, going sideways with him. They landed and his grip kept tightening, feeble grunts escaping him. Obi-Wan tried to grab ahold of the _beskar_ but found he could no longer control his hands. Jango was beginning to move away as light came flooding in from the door opening. Everything was spinning and Obi-Wan swore he was going to puke as darkness began to take over his senses. Jango was still moving, leaving emptiness in his wake. 

The last thing he could remember hearing was a metallic _bonk_. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [_bonk_](https://i.pinimg.com/564x/87/44/41/8744413ca7bfbe5b9fbd4e09d21b1256.jpg) (quick img made by a friend, inspired by the last sentence)
> 
> Translations:  
> chakaaryc - rotten, low-life (adjective to describe an undesirable person of dubious ethics)


	25. Chapter 25

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Huge shoutout to [WeShouldSpoon](https://archiveofourown.org/users/WeShouldSpoon) (aforementioned friend who made the bonk image) for helping me with the plot of this chapter! I can't imagine this chapter would have turned out the same without their help.

When he opened his eyes, he was lying on his back on the floor of a square, duracrete room with a simple bench on one wall and a little bucket in the corner. There was a solid durasteel door with a small barred window built-in on the wall opposite of the bench. 

Obi-Wan sat up quickly to take the room and began to feel the panic well up in his chest. All of his armor and equipment were removed from his body, except for his visor (but that was a bit difficult to remove without the knowledge of how) and his neck gaiter (which was now gathered around his neck). He forced himself to his feet to approach the door, gripping the bars once he was close enough. 

He was alone and in a prison cell. The other prison cells in view were all empty. Jango certainly wasn’t close, judging by how he was undetectable in the Force. Obi-Wan leaned his head against the cool bars and slowly let out a sigh. Another day, another mess… 

He backed away from the door hesitantly to sit on the edge of the bench and buried his face in his hands. How? How did they let themselves fall for something so stupid and so obvious? _Why_ did they allow themselves to be so naive like that? Of course, Baraduk wasn’t going to meet them honestly! What did they expect from a bounty hunter on the run? It’s the exact same thing any rational person would do when they were on familiar turf and their hunters were approaching! 

Something clanged on the floor outside of Obi-Wan’s cell so his head shot up. It was a guard, a male red Devaronian, pushing a small, grey tray through a small opening at the bottom of the door. Mealtime already? Which would it be at this point? For how long did the gas keep him out? 

“What?” the Devaronian sneered. “It’s like you guys are always seeing something new for the first time… It’s just grub! You’ll want to eat it if you even want a chance of surviving more than a few minutes against Gardulla’s dragon.” 

“So it’s true?” Obi-Wan’s mouth acted before his brain did. 

The Devaronian blinked like he was surprised he was getting a reply. “Yeah? Gardulla has a dragon. It’s still a baby but a dragon is a dragon. It’s bragging material.” 

That was very bad. Obi-Wan has never faced an actual dragon before. If he and Jango were going to face a dragon, you can bet their equipment won’t be returned to them so they can’t kill the thing. At the very least, they would be given very basic equipment so they put on a show but would be unable to kill the beast. But there was some light in the situation. The Devaronian was still standing in front of Obi-Wan’s cell. He looked curious. The ex-Jedi could take advantage of that. 

Obi-Wan stood and approached the door to collect his food. The Devaronian took a hesitant step back but quickly returned to the spot where he just stood to appear less fearful. It didn’t work. Obi-Wan noticed the movement and could feel his fear. He had to be young. He was shorter than Obi-Wan and his horns were shorter than what they should be for a young adult… 

“What’s your name?” Obi-Wan asked as he held the bowl or grey slop in his hands. It smelled awful. 

The Devaronian hesitated briefly. “Everybody just calls me Dev. I’m the only Devaronian around here, it’s easiest that way. Who are you? I know you were captured with Fett.” 

Great, literally and sarcastically. Jango was also captured, but others would know. 

“I’m Khor,” Obi-Wan responded. He muted his taste buds and raised the bowl to choke down the contents. Eyes were on him the entire time, even when he put the bowl onto the tray and kicked the sheet of metal back under the door. 

“And why would _you_ be with _him_?” Dev snorted. “He’s the best bounty hunter in the galaxy, he doesn’t have luggage.” 

“I’m his student,” Obi-Wan replied with heat. 

Dev made a face. “Makes sense. I wouldn’t expect Fett to be so easy to capture. Baraduk got lucky. If you weren’t in the picture then he never would have gotten Fett.” 

Obi-Wan rolled his eyes, an action that would be hard to see due to his visor (it was about half opacity, so Dev would’ve had to squint to see it). He reached out with the Force to examine the mechanisms in the door. It wasn’t meant to hold a Force user like himself. If he just turned a few of the gears, disabled a certain latch, and outright manipulated the remote signal in the door, then he could get it open. And now that he knows what exactly to do, he can do it all in one motion. 

“Where are they keeping him, by the way?” 

“In a different hall. Scream all you like but he won’t be able to hear you and vice versa.” 

“So, what are the plans for us?” 

Dev grinned. “Well, technically you’re Baraduk’s property.” _Oh?_ “But he’s planning to meet with Gardulla so he can sell you two to her and then Gardulla will pit you against her dragon. Fett will sell for a high price but I can’t say the same about you. If Baraduk hears that you’re Fett’s student, your price might get raised a bit because that means you have _some_ skill. Then, when you’re both dead, I can imagine all your stuff will be sold. Mandalorian armor is _expensive_ when sold to the right people and Fett’s blasters are collector’s items themselves. All of your equipment is garbage but your visor might sell for a decent price if someone can figure out how to remove it without breaking it.” 

Property. Obi-Wan’s blood went cold after hearing that word. He almost didn’t hear anything else that came out of the Devaronian’s mouth. They’re caged like animals but they aren’t property. He’d sooner die than become a slave again. He’ll make sure he and Jango are out of this shithole before they ever see that dragon. Jango, with his secretly big heart and soft eyes, didn’t deserve to be referred to as property and the best bounty hunter in the same breath. 

“What if we defeat Gardulla’s dragon?” 

“You can’t. It’s a _dragon_. _No one_ defeats a dragon. I was talking Fett up earlier but even he doesn’t have what it takes to bring down a krayt dragon.” 

All right, that’s a fair way to think… But Obi-Wan had a lot more faith in both of them than Dev did. 

Both of Obi-Wan’s hands shot out to perform different actions with use of the Force. One hand guided the Force to unlock the door, and he did without triggering any alarms. With the other hand, he used the Force to choke the Devaronian and dragged him into the cell with his invisible abilities. 

“Fett and I are no one’s property,” he spat lowly. Dev looked at him with genuine fear in his eyes as he sputtered for breath and clawed at nothing at his neck. Obi-Wan took a step closer. He could feel the dark side of the Force brushing against him, almost begging to take over. And Obi-Wan, the weak-minded fool that he is, allowed the addictive side of the Force to infect his mind. He could feel the change in his eyes—the switch from blue to gold—and saw the fear on Dev’s face grow even more. “And for your information, the price on my head would be equal to, if not more than, Jango’s.” 

His hand made a fist and he heard the responding crunch of the Devaronian’s neck. The Devaronian’s body went slack so Obi-Wan waited a few seconds before he dropped him and took a step back. The ex-Jedi sucked in greedy breaths to calm himself down. His eyes stopped stinging and his limbs felt like he was controlling them again. Remnants of the dark side remained but his appearance was no longer altered and he was in his own headspace once again. 

He stared down at Dev and was unable to decide whether he felt bad or not. On one hand, Dev sounded excited when referring to Obi-Wan and Jango as property. He was glad to be supporting slavery and the slaughtering of innocents. On the other hand, Dev looked young. He got mixed into the wrong crowd and Obi-Wan had killed him instead of trying to redeem him. There was a chance he could have been turned around, would have the ability to leave the planet for a different life. 

He purposely wiped his thoughts away and approached the still body. The clothes were that of a pirate or low-level mercenary. He would be able to blend in if he put them on, especially since he wasn’t as recognizable as Jango. Maybe some would recognize him because he was captured alongside Jango but he will be able to survive a quick glance (if he found something to cover his head better. 

He momentarily had to turn his brain off to strip the Devaronian so he didn’t have to acknowledge the moral justifications. The stained pants, loose undershirt, and dark jacket were a bit big on his frame, but that meant he might be able to hide his armor under it once he comes across it. He unclipped his visor from around his face to hide it under the collar of his layers and neck gaiter. Dev also happened to have a little scarf on him so Obi-Wan tied that around his neck to hide his own clothes. 

It was probably the best he could do, so he left his prison cell and shut the door behind him. 

The hall was filled with other cells but they were unoccupied. Obi-Wan reached out with the Force to feel for Jango. He wasn’t in this hall or the next. A supply room was closer to Obi-Wan than Jango, and his stuff was in it. At the moment, considering Obi-Wan’s own treatment, Jango was safe. Baraduk wanted them alive so their guards, or whoever was charged with keeping an eye on them, would be keeping them fed and wouldn’t be allowed to beat them senseless like they could with other prisoners. But that meant Obi-Wan had to act fast before another guard would feel the need to check on him. 

Obi-Wan approached and entered the supply room. It was thankfully empty and contained all of his and some of Jango’s own equipment plus some standard equipment dispersed to the guards. Though, it seemed like they really didn’t think anything of Obi-Wan, since they put him in a secluded hall, so close to their equipment, and with a green guard. He removed Dev’s clothes to put his armor on underneath then redressed, appearing a bit bulkier than normal. He located the prototype rifle and slung it over his back, finding his falchion and blaster pistol and hiding them under his jacket. He also found an aerodynamic shell-shaped helmet with a guard to protect the lower half of his face. It would be perfect to help hide his identity. 

Jango’s WESTAR-34 blaster pistols were in their holsters, attached to his utility belt and sitting under his _buy’ce_. His poleyns were stacked on top of each other and sitting next to his vambraces, placed in front of the black T-shaped visor. His jetpack was propped up behind his _buy’ce_. Not a good sign that they were able to remove parts of his ensemble, but since everything wasn’t there, that had to mean he was still wearing his flak vest and the remaining _beskar_ on his legs. 

Obi-Wan’s only choice was to leave Jango’s equipment where it was. He couldn’t risk even bringing the vambraces because of how they would puff out his shape even more. And bringing Jango’s pistols was completely out of the question because shooting their way out wasn’t an option until Jango was wearing all of his _beskar_ again. 

He backed out of the room, making sure the door slid shut behind him, and made his way down the hall, walking with purpose. He extended his senses in an attempt to locate Jango. So far, nothing. He turned a corner and ran into a female human (or he thinks. It was a bit hard to tell when she wore a helmet like his that covered even more of her face). She looked at him with scorn as he bounced off her solid frame, like it was his fault that he didn’t know she would be around the corner. 

“Excuse me but what do you think you’re doing?” she demanded. 

“Uh, sorry,” Obi-Wan apologized. He began to spin a lie in his head. “I’m new so they sent me to check up on the other dude brought in with Fett since he’s not a threat. He got some food, won’t be needing attention again until another 12 or so standard hours.” 

The woman stared him down for a long minute before slowly nodding. “Have you gotten to see Fett himself yet? I was just on my way. It’s not every day you get to see a legendary bounty hunter brought to his knees because he was carrying dead weight around with him.” 

Obi-Wan ignored the jab that was unknowingly directed at him. “Oh, no I haven’t. I would love to come with you!” 

The woman grinned. “Sure thing, kid. I hear he’s quite the looker without his bucket. Shame he’s being fed to Gardulla’s dragon. Grizzled men who know how to hunt are hard to come by these days.” 

Obi-Wan felt a crawling sensation erupt over his skin and he grew very uncomfortable very quickly. Jango’s just a piece of meat to everyone here, it seems. Obi-Wan technically is, too, but every humanoid species in the entire palace was thirsting after Jango. Obi-Wan was just a piece of meat in terms of the dragon he and Jango were supposed to be getting fed to. And though everyone was prepared to see Jango die to the dragon, they at least talked about him with respect. 

“Uh, yeah…” he agreed half-heartedly. And he’d be foolish to disagree. Not only because he had to pretend he was just as stupid as the rest of the guards, but also because, well, Jango might have _some_ desirable exterior features in a partner… 

“Follow me,” the woman instructed. 

She led the way through many other halls. So many that the colors of the walls changed to a darker color. They were still made out of a duracrete, but they were no longer the same cream color that Obi-Wan’s hall was. Now they were walking through halls with a shade matching dirt, and were coming across more people. 

The woman turned down another hall and it was completely empty except for one cell. This would explain why Obi-Wan couldn’t initially find Jango. They weren’t on completely different sides of the palace but whoever put them in their cells made sure to keep them well-separated. 

There was one guard outside of the cell. The woman with Obi-Wan made a motion with her head. “I can take next watch.” 

The current guard looked between the woman and Obi-Wan and shrugged, deciding to let them gawk at the famed bounty hunter. “Just be careful. He tried strangling the first group of people who ogled him” Then the guard left. 

Jango was standing in the middle of his cell with his arms crossed and watching them with absolute hatred and annoyance. He was eyeing the woman first but when he looked at Obi-Wan, recognition shone in his eyes. He uncrossed his arms and took an unwilling step towards the door. Obi-Wan could feel his relief through the Force and felt himself echoing that. 

“See? Look at him. He’s got a nice, strong face, scars, those beautiful baby brown eyes, and curls that would pass on to his children and make any city woman faint. A looker. _And_ he’s a packaged deal with that Mandalorian armor,” the woman gushed. She turned to Obi-Wan abruptly. “And that’s a lesson for you, kid. Always make sure you take off as much armor as possible. The other one we captured with him was almost fully armored but we were able to remove everything except for his headgear. It’s harder to remove Fett’s armor without leaving him naked, so we just took away the things he could use as weapons.” 

Obi-Wan nodded like he was paying attention. He was actually watching Jango, though. The _Mand’alor_ had crossed his arms again and was sticking out a hip, looking very unimpressed. His eyes reflected his annoyance but his slightly upturned lips expressed his amusement. He was probably enjoying the compliments. 

“What I wouldn’t do to have children with—” Obi-Wan hooked his arm around the woman’s neck and squeezed with all his might, and some assistance from the Force, until he was lowering her still body to the floor. 

“What, didn’t want to hear how she’d fondle me if I was her slave?” Jango teased darkly. He completely approached the door as Obi-Wan turned to the control panel and removed it to manipulate the wires so he could get the door open. The Force told him what to do to make sure no alarm was tripped so he followed the steps inserted in his mind obediently. “Do you not agree with her?” Jango sounded offended as he continued with his pestering. “Do you share the same sentiments? I’ll admit, just using me for my _beskar_ is a bit low but I appreciate that _someone_ finally acknowledges my looks. _I_ think I would produce beautiful _ik’aad_.” 

Obi-Wan got the door open and he sighed right away, throwing Jango a glower over his shoulder. He hooked his arms under the woman’s armpits and dragged her into Jango’s cell. He crouched down to check her pulse. Dead. He didn’t feel bad about it. 

“I _think_ it’s more important that we get out of here instead of discussing how many people want to have sex with you and how many want to see us get eaten by Gardulla’s krayt,” Obi-Wan grumbled. 

“Some want to do both,” Jango grunted as Obi-Wan clipped his visor to his face to review the little map it was automatically charting. “But there’s reason in that. Good job, by the way. How did you manage to escape?” 

He used the Force, but Jango couldn’t know that. 

“I tricked my guard into entering my cell. He was new so it was easy enough. And then my cell was right next to the room holding our armor.” He returned his visor to his neck, covering it up, and looked to Jango. “You know I’m the dead weight everyone keeps talking about? No one can believe it that you, legendary bounty hunter Jango Fett, would have someone with you. They’re all blaming our capture on me.” Then he looked closer at Jango and tore his helmet off upon realizing how mechanic and self-centered he was being. “You were bleeding.” He reached forward to grab the sides of Jango’s head to get a better look. There was a bit of dried blood on the edge of his scalp and his hair had a red shine to it in one spot. Obi-Wan’s attention was also drawn to the two little slits on the left side of Jango’s breastplates blinking red. He thought those were supposed to be the same silver as the rest of his _beskar’gam_. “And why are those going off?” 

Jango reached up to grab Obi-Wan’s wrists to remove the hands that were trying to turn his head in all directions. “If you don’t remember, we were gassed. My _buy’ce_ was able to give me a bit more protection than you but it acts as a bell when people aim to treat it that way. And those lights are a life support system readout. It’s nothing to worry about. They went off because they detected my compromised state.” 

Obi-Wan took a step back and took his limbs with him when he felt Jango’s gloved thumb brush against his inner wrist. It was a weird feeling. It felt too intimate and he didn’t know how to feel about it. “You should put the guard’s clothes on. We still need to find Baraduk and collect your things before we can leave. They’ll recognize _you_ in an instant.” 

Jango smirked at him. “Your name will eventually be known. Don’t get rotten about them doting over me.” He moved forward and started taking the clothes off the guard. Everything just barely fit over his _beskar’gam_ properly. The guard’s helmet on him was also able to be adjusted so his face was completely obscured. Obi-Wan didn’t know how well his sight would be but they didn’t have many options. Besides, they needed to get moving before anyone else decided to come by to gawk. 

They left the cell and started to retrace Obi-Wan’s steps to find a way out of the prison area. 

“So you don’t agree with that lady’s words?” 

Obi-Wan groaned. “We can’t talk about this right now. You shouldn’t even be talking since you’re so recognizable.” 

“I guess…” Jango sighed dramatically. “Lead the way, _kid_.” 

It took way too much discipline to not turn around and jab Jango in the neck for testing his patience. Yet Obi-Wan faced forward the entire time and kept his feet moving. 

It took some trial and error to maneuver their way through the cell blocks. They were a mess and labeled horribly. Jango made a comment about them finding the override controls so they have a distraction when it comes time to escape. It was a good idea but it depends on how their interaction with Baraduk goes and how soon everyone realizes the star prey for Gardulla’s dragon is missing. 

By the time they climbed a set of spiral stairs and found themselves in some sort of lobby, no alarm had yet to be triggered. That was a good sign, all things considering. Now they just had to find Baraduk without ever seeing an image of him with a time crunch… 

The level they were on stunk of several different scents. Alcohol, piss, and burning engine oil were some that stuck out the most. It was also much louder. There was a nearby bar where all the commotion was coming from. Guests of Gardulla and those who received her blessing were in there. There was a very high chance Baraduk was in there. 

Obi-Wan spun around to put a hand on Jango’s chest before they entered. The man slowly looked down at the hand on him before looking up at the same speed. Obi-Wan could sense him raising an eyebrow and smirking. 

“You don’t talk to anyone. Don’t take that helmet off. Don’t even look at anyone while we are in there,” Obi-Wan ordered. “In fact, try to make yourself seem smaller. You’re not in _beskar’gam_ , don’t stand like you’re proud.” 

Jango chuckled deeply. “Seeing as you’re piloting this job now, I’ll follow your lead.” 

The _Mand’alor_ was partially jerking him along but he was being serious at the same time. Obi-Wan appreciated the vote of confidence but wasn’t impressed with how it was relayed to him. 

They entered the room and the scent of sweat from all sorts of different species filled their noses. The noise grew even more. The number of bodies in the room made it hard to notice any new visitors so Obi-Wan and Jango slipped into their midst with no issues. One of their issues seemed to be that the other guards dressed in similar attire to what they stole all had their helmets off. They were all cheering and drinking together and having a swell time. If Obi-Wan and Jango wanted to properly blend in, they _had_ to act like that. 

Obi-Wan led the way to the bar and waved the serving droid down. “One of your cheapest drinks.” 

“That would be swamp water,” the droid replied. “Second cheapest is the beer manufactured in Bilbousa’s factories.” 

“One of those, then.” Obi-Wan could feel Jango giving him a dirty look. No drinking on the job, yes, Obi-Wan knew. He returned the look. The droid fetched the drink and Obi-Wan reached into his pocket to dispense credits onto the counter. 

The other guards eventually moved closer. Obi-Wan sipped at the watery beer and Jango slouched awkwardly next to him. Obi-Wan felt a bit bad for Jango because the man was completely out of his element by having to look like a slob (total opposite of how he likes to present himself), but Obi-Wan also had other things to worry about. Like how one of the guards was getting awfully close to him and beginning to ask him how fresh of blood he was. Then a shout rang across the room. “I’ll sue any of you who want to go visit my prizes again! I need them left alone so they can get their beauty sleep for their ultimate battle!” 

Someone laughed loudly near them. “Gardulla still has to buy them from you!” 

A voice shouted by the door, “Gardulla won’t be able to resist! We will see a Mandalorian and mercenary fall before her dragon!” 

Everyone cheered in response to that. 

It took a bit of work but Obi-Wan was able to lead the way through the room and to the other side of the room where the original voice spoke. There was one Barabel with black scales and reddish eyes seated at the bar. It had to be Baraduk. He wore a thick leather coat with a skull printed over his left collarbone and there was a rocket launcher slung over his back. They needed to get him alone. 

Jango leaned in close to Obi-Wan. He was thinking the same thing. “Tell him his prisoners are talking shit about him.” 

Obi-Wan scoffed. “And why would he fall for that?” 

Jango made his own noise. It sounded also like a scoff but softer. “Because I’ll let you in on a little secret. Baraduk is a _di’kut_ , especially right now. He’s young and headstrong—judging from his words—and he’s also drunk. You tell him that the best bounty hunter in the galaxy just called him shit, he’ll come down to gloat about roles. This is your show but my words are the right call.” 

It made sense. And Jango was the more experienced one out of them so he would know. 

Obi-Wan pushed his way through the crowd and sidled up next to the Barabel. “I just got back from looking at Fett. Good catch, by the way. He was talking shit about you, said you couldn’t take him in a fair fight. He said he’ll slaughter Gardulla’s dragon and then you right after it.” 

Baraduk, who was getting a drink of his alcohol, slammed his bottle down and let out a reptilian hiss. “Fett’s just got sour that he got bested by new blood! Old man needs to learn when to step aside and let someone new take the throne, and that would be me!” Obi-Wan heard Jango mutter something about how he wasn’t old. “We’ll see if he really carries out his own words.” 

“Well, maybe you should go down and give him a reprimand for it? It doesn’t hurt to knock a bit of sense into him. Plus, you don’t want him to actually defeat Gardulla’s dragon, or else the Hutt will be after _you_.” 

The Barabel froze and cursed quietly. “Good point.” He shot out of his seat and through the crowd to exit the room. Obi-Wan and Jango followed but at more of a distance so they wouldn’t be noticed as they went a completely different way back down to the cells. 

When they arrived at Jango’s cell, Baraduk was holding his head and cursing more. Jango took the prototype rifle from Obi-Wan and smashed the stock of it against the Barabel’s head. One hit was all it took and their target slumped to the floor. Obi-Wan put the rifle on his back so Jango could collect the Barabel. The next stop was the storage room. 

They didn’t come across anyone on their way. When they arrived, Jango removed his borrowed guard uniform to attach the rest of his ensemble. There would be no fitting anything back overtop of his _beskar’gam_. Meanwhile, Obi-Wan was putting cuffs on Baraduk. Just in case… 

“Think we should release everyone else?” Jango asked. He was still adjusting his equipment, currently attaching his holsters to his codpiece. 

Obi-Wan stared at their target. “It might be the right thing to do, but dangerous. A lot of people were in the bar. Now is a really good time to escape. Especially with people wanting to see you get eaten by a baby krayt dragon. Even though you don’t have a price on your head, you have a metaphorical target on your back while we’re here.” 

“You just proposed two contradicting arguments that made total sense. You’re leading, it’s your choice.” 

“Well, it shouldn’t be my choice.” Obi-Wan looked out of the corner of his eye bashfully. Jango didn’t yet have his head covered. “As I said: you’re the one with a target on your back. Your life is the one on the line right now.” 

Jango looked up at him. “Since we don’t know where the terminal to release any others who are here, we won’t mess with it. Give me another minute and then I should be ready to go.” 

A full standard minute was all Jango needed. He sped up and soon was entirely dressed in his _beskar’gam_. Obi-Wan had removed his helmet and put his visor back over his eyes. They checked over their things one last time, Obi-Wan threw Baraduk over his shoulder, and they were moving through the cell blocks for the last time. 

They definitely didn't know the way out directly but Jango’s sense of direction was strong. He was able to lead them through the cell blocks with relative ease and got them to the next floor before needing to slow down to start being more careful. His HUD had a motion tracker on it but it wasn’t foolproof. The ex-Jedi following him was better at detecting any motion around them but that wasn’t knowledge Jango was aware of. Obi-Wan’s own visor provided some information about their surroundings but he was letting the Force guide him. He was able to blame his ability to stop Jango before they turned corners in front of others on his visor instead of abilities. 

When they got to it, their exit was a bit convoluted. Since the entrance was still blocked by the three guards from before, they had to climb their way through a window slit. Needless to say, it took longer than expected and it showed the two in poor light. They made it to their speeder by the time someone in the palace took note of the missing prisoners. There was a notable commotion inside but nothing to worry about yet. Jango was already mounted on the bike and Obi-Wan was trying to find a way to get comfortable behind him while also keeping Baraduk on. Jango’s repetitive urges eventually became enough and Obi-Wan sat behind him, squeezing the bike with his legs and holding onto Baraduk’s coat with his hands. 

Jango kicked the speeder bike into gear. He had to drive them through the swamp so they weren’t seen right away but soon found their path to return to Bilbousa. But the drive still wasn’t the shortest. It felt even longer for Obi-Wan since he was using his legs to make sure he stayed on the bike. Baraduk’s unconscious body didn’t make it easy when he kept slipping. 

They were probably about halfway when Baraduk slipped dramatically. He was tipping the speeder to a point that Jango was having a hard time controlling it. He looked over his shoulder at one point to make a comment, and Obi-Wan was very ready to defend himself, but something cold pressed against his neck and then he was falling backward off the speeder. The movement completely unbalanced the speeder. Jango did his best to keep it under control but the end of it dragged in the water and it spun out. But maybe Obi-Wan should concentrate on himself. 

He and Baraduk had fallen off the back. The metal was against his neck the entire time, even as his head was submerged underwater and then when his head was jerked above the surface so he was getting choked by the cuffs on Baraduk. The Barabel held him close and stayed seated in the water. 

“You’re a lying little scum,” he hissed into the ex-Jedi’s ear. 

Obi-Wan ignored him and reached under the shirt he took from Dev to pull the dagger out from his cuirass. He swung it behind him wildly with not much luck since he was currently being choked. Baraduk managed to tighten his hands in Obi-Wan’s hair and jerked him forward to dunk him. He skillfully returned the dagger to its hidden sheath so he didn’t drop it in the murky water. By the time he was brought back up for air, he was sputtering for air and his lungs were burning. His chest hurt due to his coughing and his neck felt like it was going numb from the pressure there. He placed his hands on Baraduk’s wrists and dug his nails in. 

Jango was returning on the speeder. He skidded to a halt and leaped off the vehicle, aiming his blaster pistols already with practiced ease. 

“Let him go,” he demanded darkly. 

Baraduk growled. “You were my ticket to the big leagues. I captured you fair and square. Gardulla would have paid me so much…. I would have been known as the bounty hunter to take Jango Fett down!” 

“Then this is between you and me. Let him go and we can settle this ourselves.” 

Obi-Wan struggled briefly so Baraduk completely tightened his hold. He was left like that until he was seeing spots and making choking noises in his throat. Baraduk gave him a bit more space to breathe when the man was nearly passed out. He must have said something but the pounding in Obi-Wan’s ears was too loud. 

“Maz sent us. She said you broke some of her rules. I think she’ll treat you better than I will if you don’t comply.” 

Obi-Wan’s head was lowered dangerously close to the water again. “ _Please_ , she’ll throw me in a dungeon for the rest of my life when we return to Takodana. I’d rather die at the end of your blasters.” 

“That’s not my decision to make. Let him go before I make you regret it.” 

Baraduk scoffed. Obi-Wan’s air was cut off again. He was getting dangerously close to lashing out defensively with the Force as a reactionary instinct. The pressure was lessened on his throat so he took deep breaths in… right as his head was forced under the water again. Only one of Jango’s blasters went off and Obi-Wan was forced upright by Baraduk’s cuffs as the Barabel shifted due to a smoking wound on his shoulder. 

Obi-Wan’s head was spinning and everything north of his torso— torso included—felt wrung-out. He hacked and gasped for air. Jango was moving with quick motions. He released the younger man from the Barebel’s hold then approached the Barabel to stab him with the emergency sedative he kept in a pouch of his belt. 

“How are you doing?” he asked as he pulled his student and target out of the pool they had fallen in. 

But Obi-Wan couldn’t reply. Jango gave him a rough slap on the back that caused him to start coughing and hacking up the water that he inhaled. It felt awful and it didn’t make a pretty picture. It all burned and tasted horrible coming back up. Jango gave him some privacy to regurgitate in peace, dragging Baraduk to the speeder and tying him down on the back of it. He eventually returned, when Obi-Wan was lying on his side and shaking from layers of cold, soggy clothes and a tired body. 

Obi-Wan was resting his eyes when Jango crouched in front of him and started moving aside the fabric covering his neck. The ex-Jedi didn’t have the energy to protest, open his eyes, move, or even speak, for that matter. 

“Sorry,” Jango murmured. He brushed the hair out of Obi-Wan’s face gently and let out a sigh. Obi-Wan cracked an eye open. He was too tired to search the Force, and Jango had his _buy’ce_ on, but if Obi-Wan didn’t know any better, he would think that Jango is showing that he cares. 

Obi-Wan began to push himself upward and managed it with some help. “Let’s just return to the ship.” His voice was rough. 

“Of course.” Jango was uncharacteristically quiet. He practically carried Obi-Wan to the speeder with how heavily the smaller body leaned against him. He climbed on after he was sure Obi-Wan was situated. 

They returned to _Jaster’s Legacy_. Obi-Wan was able to witness the brig being used for the first time before Jango escorted him to the medbay to be checked by the medical droid before he went to the cockpit to send them back to Outland. A little bit more coughing was all he needed. 

They cleaned up, ate some snacks, then settled for sleep in Jango’s cabin. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I was using Star Wars: Bounty Hunter for part of this chapter. Some of the things that I gleaned from it don't appear to be on the wiki, so don't be surprised (and try not to be confused!) if anything in this chapter may contradict things that are considered legends (because I gather lore through legends before I go to canon, so there's already risk of contradiction there). 
> 
> Translations:  
> ik'aad - baby, child under 3  
> di'kut - idiot, useless individual, waste of space


	26. Chapter 26

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I start my next semester tomorrow. I'm taking a lot of art classes so I shouldn't have a lot of academic writing (I think and hope). However, don't be surprised if (and quite possibly when) the next chapter comes out in two weeks. It might not, but don't get your hopes up. OR I could just post willy nilly. Maybe a chapter almost every week but with no guaranteed day. I'm currently undecided. Might just tackle that obstacle when I get there. :/
> 
> So, with that said, I leave you with this...  
> (fyi: some time skips are in this chapter)

Once they unloaded Baraduk from _Jaster’s Legacy_ , Maz didn’t stay much longer. She talked with Roz a bit, thanked the bounty hunters and gave them their pay, then left. Roz watched her friend leave until her ship was out of sight then gave her attention to the two men. Obi-Wan had been hiding his neck for as long as he could but Roz, despite not being Force-sensitive, caught on to the unease expressed by both men and demanded to know what happened. They retold what happened on the job as best as they could with the memory gap after getting gassed and waking up in individual cells, Jango getting ogled and Obi-Wan alone. They got to the part where Baraduk woke up and strangled Obi-Wan for getting in the way and Roz was livid. Obi-Wan getting used as a bargaining chip infuriated her the most. Jango being the star of a battle with a dragon? Yes, Roz wasn’t happy about that, but Obi-Wan, according to her, didn’t deserve to get mixed up with the top leaderboard bounty hunter drama. 

So for the few remaining days of Month 8, they weren’t allowed to leave Outland. Not like it mattered. There were only a few days left of the month and Jango was dead set on leaving for several jobs in Month 9 before Roz wanted them back during the Festival of Stars and New Year’s Fete (after some more jobs during Month 10). 

They were back to sharing beds during the sleep cycle, usually staying in Obi-Wan’s room—despite the man’s paranoia about the secrecy of his lightsabers and other Jedi belongings. 

On the first night back from Nal Hutta, Obi-Wan was almost asleep when he felt tentative fingers brushing against his neck. They were close to the bruising from Baraduk but careful not to directly touch them. Surprising dexterity and mapping skills for almost complete darkness. 

“What are you doing?” he mumbled. 

Jango shifted slightly. Their legs were on the verge of tangling together and that movement brought it even closer to happening. “Nothing. Just go to sleep.” 

The fingers eventually drifted up to trace along his jawline and tucked his hair behind his ear. His thumb took over and brushed along Obi-Wan’s brow and forehead until he was tracing down the other side of his face and then softly, _barely_ , drifted across Obi-Wan’s bottom lip. The ex-Jedi decided that going to sleep right after that probably was his best option. This way, he could escape the intimate-feeling moment and forget about it in his sleep. 

During the morning cycle of the next day, Obi-Wan was going through his drawers for clothes (ignoring the top drawer), and managed to find the vornskr tooth necklace Jango bought him during the Festival of Life. He found himself cringing as he looked at the teeth of the predators whose favorite meals were Force-sensitives. He held it out to Jango. 

“This is yours.” 

Jango looked at it, squinted, then pushed Obi-Wan’s hand away from where he still sat on the bed. “You wear it. Imbue your luck in it.” 

Obi-Wan also squinted. Jedi weren’t supposed to believe in luck, they believed in the Force. He believed in luck. It wasn’t the Force that saved his eye from a lightsaber and it wasn’t the Force who contacted Roz and landed him as the student of the best bounty hunter in the galaxy. 

Well, he was a poor Jedi, anyway… 

“You believe in luck?” 

Jango snorted. “You’re asking me when I’ve witnessed you do reckless things that would result in death several times? Yes, I believe in luck. Everyone believes in luck. So wear the necklace, imbue your luck in it, and I might wear it.” 

Obi-Wan rolled his eyes. He decided to turn the necklace into a bracelet since his neck was a constantly-targeted location by others. As much as he was against wearing it, he would for Jango. It should only be in his possession for a short time. It shouldn’t be mentioned that he could feel a semblance of a connection to the teeth… 

On the very first day of the new month, Jango had found them a job. They were leaving during the final hours of the first day, saying goodbye to an annoyed Roz and heading for a location inputted by Jango and not seen by Obi-Wan. 

Many of their jobs followed that same track; of Jango finding jobs and inputting coordinates that Obi-Wan had to research to know where they were going. They continued doing jobs through Month 9 until the Festival of Stars was encroaching and they had to return to Outland for Roz. 

One job in particular ended in probably one of the worst ways yet. Not surprisingly, it was on Coruscant (things seem to go wrong or bad things tend to come to light on Coruscant…). 

Obi-Wan and Jango _agreed_ to split up in a club to track down their target. Obi-Wan was completely armorless and his only self-defense was his blaster pistol (recently beginning to malfunction after getting submerged in swamp water on Nal Hutta) and one knife on his belt. He was the one to walk through the building to locate their target or to corner their target if Jango spotted them first. Jango, wearing his _beskar’gam_ , sat somewhere along the outside of the room with a perfect view of the bar and a partial view of the dancefloor. Making sure he was able to see part of the dancefloor was a mistake. 

Obi-Wan could feel he was getting closer. It meant entering the dance floor, so he went to the bar for a few shots to gather the nerves to do it. Jango’s voice came over the comm chip in his ear. 

_“Watch it…”_ he growled in warning. _“No drinking on the job.”_

There was no way to verbally reply without looking crazy so Obi-Wan raised one of his glasses as a toast in Jango’s direction before tipping his head back to swallow the beverage. Whether it worked or not, Obi-Wan still went onto the dancefloor to mingle and approach the target. 

The specific thing that went wrong was when Obi-Wan was in the midst of sweaty bodies. He found their bounty and engaged in conversation with them. The only issue was that Obi-Wan had to participate in the dancing. He let his hips be grabbed by their bounty and joined the touching of bodies and exchanging of body heat. He hated it with every fiber of his being. Too many bodies surrounded him and the Force was crowded with all of their presences. It was hard to focus on anything, not even his determination to keep the bounty’s attention on him could completely break through the haze settling over his brain. 

Finally, a hand fisted in his hair, an arm wrapped around his waist, and teeth seared down the side of his neck. All the bounty’s doing. Then it all came to an abrupt halt when his ears were flooded with the familiar sound of a WESTAR-34 going off. The heat around him disappeared and some of the fog in the Force cleared as the familiar form of Jango approached and others moved away fearfully. 

Realization dawned on him when the _Mand’alor_ was standing over the body of their target and his black T-shaped visor was facing him. Jango _killed_ their bounty. They _never_ do that due to the significant price drop. Jango also hated killing their targets due to their ability to tarnish one’s reputation. 

Obi-Wan, with blazing red cheeks, glared at Jango with purpose then stormed out of the club. He had it under control. Jango was _jealous_ and he let that get in the way of the job (yes, Obi-Wan took a gander into the Force and Jango was practically vibrating with an overwhelming amount of jealousy and hatred). Obi-Wan had the target distracted, all Jango had to do was subdue them, not kill! 

Though something relatively nice came out of that job. 

Jango let it slip when they were boarding _Jaster’s Legacy_. “Are you all right, Dee?” He sounded sorry and didn’t even seem to realize what he said until a pair of blue eyes were focused intently on him. He visibly cringed and took a step back down the ramp. 

“Dee?” Obi-Wan echoed. He was surprised by it. 

“Sorry,” Jango murmured. 

“No, it’s fine,” Obi-Wan returned softly. “How long have you been cooking that up?” 

Jango had just been closed-off in the Force but was starting to open up after not getting rejected. He was sorry, not only for letting his emotions get the better of him on the job but also for springing a nickname on Obi-Wan. “Nal Hutta,” he admitted, “came to me when we were escaping the palace.” 

All Obi-Wan did was smile gently before continuing up the ramp. 

They made it back to Outland during the morning cycle of the first day of the Festival of Stars. The station was decorated with a plethora of lights and fake snow down every public hallway. Their private living area lacked the fake snow but it was fully decorated with lights that blinked and changed colors just about every second. 

Jango was groaning about holidays and decorations before _Jaster’s Legacy_ was docked. 

Roz and Terry were there to greet them again. The Toydarian threw a handful of the fake snow over the men when they were both departed and waiting to head to their rooms to put their things down. Jango looked extra grumpy after the surprise. 

“Never any fun during the Fete weeks,” Roz sighed dramatically. 

“It’s because someone has to be a grown-up around here,” Jango threw over his shoulder since he was the one to lead the way inside. 

Roz followed. “Dral, will you try to inspire some festivity in him this week? He’s always such a drag during this Fete week especially.” 

Jango threw a pointed look over his shoulder, not wearing his _buy’ce_ so his playful annoyance was clear. 

“I can try.” It came out as a sigh but that was because he was not intent on getting between whatever holiday-fueled feud might run between them for the week. 

But the week didn’t advance horribly. After the first day of settling in on Outland, Jango was out of his grouchy spell. He willingly wore whatever festive hats Roz instructed them to wear (but that’s where he drew the line. While Obi-Wan agreed to wear a festive sweater, Jango threatened to burn whatever Roz would try to put on him despite not wearing his vambraces. It was a warning that Roz took genuinely yet laughed about as if Jango didn’t just warn he’d start a fire with minimum materials). 

They cooked more Mandalorian foods for the final meal of one day. Another day spent between Obi-Wan and Jango as they collected and prepared the ingredients then put everything together. It was less spicy than the _tiingilar_ they made during the Festival of Life. They spent the remainder of the day drinking with each other and watching Roz’s cheesy dramas. Obi-Wan went easier on the _tihaar_ while Jango gladly drank enough _kri’gee_ that would have put Obi-Wan on his ass for several days (the amount of _tihaar_ that Obi-Wan drank wasn’t a small amount, though. Jango had enough to go around and therefore he mostly drank what was in front of him until he felt some of the control in his mind start to become unsalvageable wisps. It was too late to do anything about that but he was able to stop before he would be on the levels that Jango was sure to be on later). 

When Roz declared that she was tired and it was time for bed, she left first. Jango and Obi-Wan waited on the couch and acted like they were going to split up once they were able to pick themselves up off the couch. Instead, they spent that night cycle in Obi-Wan’s room, their preferred room to sleep in on Outland (because Jango’s room was more lived-in and he wasn’t comfortable having some of his personal items on display, according to the Force). 

That left them sprawled together in Obi-Wan’s bed, the blankets nested around and covering them. It was cozy and their alcohol-inflicted brains probably wouldn’t let them last long like this, especially Jango’s. 

Jango inhaled deeply through his nose. Obi-Wan felt an arm drape across his hips. “You know, there are a _lot_ of Festival of Life babies in the galaxy.” 

Obi-Wan huffed out a snort. “Oh yeah?” 

“Yeah…” it sounded like the Mandalorian was drifting off but he was wide awake with his next words, “the Festival of Stars is also about life but it focuses on more appreciative aspects; focus on the ones around you. The Festival of Life is about remembering those lost and focusing on the future. Can’t have a future without some new life…” 

Jango pulled himself closer by slipping his other arm under the ex-Jedi. Obi-Wan felt damp hair brush his fingers. A nose pressed into his stomach. He ran his fingers through the short hair. Jango was quiet and then he was humming or muttering something completely unintelligible. 

“You know, Roz says I need to settle down, live a normal life, leave the bounty hunting behind me… She thinks _Jaster’s Legacy_ is just one big metaphor. I mean, I get it, and it might be, but it’s what he deserves after the death he got.” Kriff, what was going on now? His words were clear now but Jango was beyond drunk and starting to ramble and Obi-Wan was too tired, curious, and maybe too drunk to stop him as the man spoke into his stomach. “But she doesn’t understand the life like you and me. You can’t just stop hunting. The thrill you get from chasing down targets… the near-death experiences that make you appreciate what you have… the places you get to see… it’s like spice. It’s so addictive and bad for you at the same time…” 

Jango slipped his hands under Obi-Wan’s shirt and pressed his open palms against the younger man’s lower back. Obi-Wan arched forward reactively and Jango nuzzled into his front with a sigh. 

It took a few seconds for Obi-Wan to relax. He began to pet Jango’s head. “But you have the credits, don’t you? A half-retirement is possible.” 

“I’m in my early thirties,” Jango scoffed, muffled by fabric and Obi-Wan’s front, “a partial retirement is insulting.” 

Obi-Wan’s fingers found a curl longer than the others and started to tease it to loosen it up. A different topic entered his mind. The _Mand’alor_ might be a bit too drunk to think things through and be more willing to answer. “Jango, why aren’t you in contact with the other True Mandalorians?” 

Jango tensed briefly but was relaxing again in seconds. Obi-Wan was right. “I told them to stay away. I don’t want to be responsible for any more of their deaths. It’s safer for all of us if they keep their distance and only contact me in extreme emergencies or very specific jobs. It’s also self-punishment. Nothing’s worse than being separated from your people and punishing yourself until the end. Jaster would hate me for what I let the True Mandalorians become… I hated him at first, but he would have every right to hate me now…” 

Obi-Wan curled himself around Jango as best he could as a sign he was trying to comfort the other man. He knew exactly what it felt like to be separated from one’s people and to punish oneself until the end. He hasn’t been an ex-Jedi for long but his year on Ryloth, in his opinion, was his deserved punishment for being a terrible Padawan and for letting Kencha die. Like Jango, he too was imprisoned, and Jango’s imprisonment was for the Battle of Galidraan and for being a True Mandalorian. They both were in self-exile now. 

They were too much alike. Jango may express bloodthirsty tendencies and Obi-Wan may prefer to talk things through… but their similarities were prevalent. 

It made Obi-Wan realize—finally, through his thick skull, and after invading the privacy of Jango’s mind with the Force to get a glimpse of the other man’s emotions several times—that he might have some of his own feelings for Jango… It was hard not to feel something for him, whether that be hate due to his deep-rooted aggression or a type of affection due to his tucked-away passion. 

Jango mumbled something incoherent and let out a sigh, his body going slack as his air left him. He was definitely out now. 

Oh, but acknowledging Obi-Wan’s own feelings would just get him in trouble… His past feelings relating to relationships always ended up squashed. Cerasi ended up dead in his arms; Siri and he acknowledged their feelings for each other but decided to put their Jedi duties before their feelings and now Siri was dead; Lena was a brief infatuation he never saw again after Frego; Satine… their relationship was basically instantaneous as a result of Obi-Wan and Qui-Gon protecting her on the run and the bonding they had to do to make sure they didn’t bite each other’s heads off (reminds Obi-Wan of his initial relationship with a different Mandalorian). Satine and Jango had many similarities but both would probably deny that. They were both passionate, intense, partly unpredictable, and strong-willed. It just happened to be a wild coincidence that they were both Mandalorian, leaders of their people, and favored Obi-Wan. 

What would be the result of Jango if Obi-Wan allows his feelings to fully develop? He is the only one to not know Obi-Wan as a Jedi. Maybe nothing bad would befall on him. Maybe the key to keeping Jango alive and unharmed would be to keep him in the dark about Obi-Wan’s true past. But if Jango was to ever find out, who’s to say he won’t try to kill, or at the very least lash out at, Obi-Wan for being a Jedi in the past? It’s possible to remove the Force from oneself…it’s not ideal but it’s an option. Living without the Force is difficult after a full life with it and reconnecting to it after forcing it to leave or completely ignoring it can have devastating results… Some Jedi can’t handle it. If Obi-Wan is serious about letting his feelings for Jango bloom, he not only needs to be less dense but he also either needs to be honest with Jango or decide to almost or completely say goodbye to the Force. 

It looked like he needed to find a way to tell a Jedi-hating Mandalorian that his student and mercenary companion is an ex-Jedi if he didn’t want to say goodbye to a part of himself again. 

Jango made a little noise in his sleep and Obi-Wan felt his heart melt metaphorically. He ran his hands through Jango’s hair and the man leaned into the touch. The _Mand’alor_ was still asleep so Obi-Wan latched onto his energy and followed. He didn’t want to be awake with his thoughts any longer. 

The rest of the Festival of Stars went by smoothly. Jango was more agreeable than normal and bit at Roz’s remarks less. It was a change that Roz took notice of, seeming surprised when Jango didn’t retort to a comment she made about hobbies during a public crafting event on Outland. She looked between the two, taking in how close they were seated despite each man known for needing personal space and the crafts needing a decent amount of table space to be created, and squinted. Obi-Wan blanched and tried communicating to Jango that Roz saw them being a bit too friendly with each other but the _Mand’alor_ said he was trying to enjoy himself and didn’t want to hear about Roz’s next plans to pester him. 

During the middle of the week, they all roamed Merchant’s Row individually for gifts to exchange on Life Day. Obi-Wan didn’t have a clue what Jango or Roz might want. Roz owns the station and she has the credits to go out and buy whatever she wants, very high chance she’d already own anything Obi-Wan comes across. Jango, on the other hand, gave no indications of things he may want. He made a comment about needing more of a specific cleaner for his _beskar_ and WESTAR-34 blasters but Obi-Wan didn’t know the brand and Jango might have already submitted his order. 

It took a lot of wandering and a comm to Roz. Her response was to not get her a gift and she supplied an oil that Jango used on his weapons. She thought about getting the oil herself but bought something else. Obi-Wan thanked her and went to buy the oil, also stopping at a jewelry shop to buy a gold necklace with a red jewel on it for Roz. 

At the end of the week, they celebrated Life Day. Roz had some things to take care of so Obi-Wan and Jango roamed the station to sightsee and gather ingredients for a final meal that Roz specifically requested. The main plate wasn’t Mandalorian food but Jango and Obi-Wan were allowed to make Mandalorian side-dishes. 

After they ate the meal of steak (Roz’s choice) and a spicy vegetable soup (something that Obi-Wan was almost certain wasn’t an actual recipe, it was just things Jango threw together and knew would work), they sat down to exchange presents. It was insisted that Obi-Wan go first but his gifts weren’t in view. It took Jango heading to his room and returning with a slick, black case a bit smaller than the size of a box for boots. He set the (surprisingly heavy for its size) case on Obi-Wan’s lap and returned to his own seat. 

“It’s a bit from both of us,” Roz was saying before Obi-Wan unclipped the latches. “It was Jango’s idea, he had to find them, and do some other things but I helped him get them here. I provided some of the other stuff I hid with my gifts.” She pulled out a little wrapped box from under her things but kept it on her lap. 

Jango was silent and watching intently. 

Obi-Wan flipped the clasps and opened the case. The inside of the case was covered with a sleek teal satin and two twin blasters each sat in perfectly shaped molds. The blasters themselves were dark metallic steel, charcoal in color, with pale gold accents decorating the outline of each plate making up the gun, originating from the short barrel. The design of it was like a smoothened L, opposite of Jango’s own blaster pistols with sharper edges. The trigger guards were sculpted with finger rests and above them, on the receiver, were the venting ports for heat. There was a little port for charging and inputting energy cells on the backstrap and little notches at the end of the barrel to presumably stabilize the weapons. There was a weird gap in the middle of the gun, between some of the plates, maybe for taking apart the blasters or even an attempt to make them lighter. 

“They’re custom WESTAR-20 blaster pistols, named Valkyries. Not quite antique but they’re becoming harder to come by, especially custom ones like these,” Jango explained. “They’re made of dallorian alloy like my own blasters. The difference is that they’re heavier, pack more of a punch, and can’t fire as fast. They rely mostly on accuracy, which I thought you would appreciate.” 

Obi-Wan picked up one of the blasters. It was much heavier than Jango’s WESTAR-34 pistols. It was solid and balanced, not too heavy, and spun smoothly on his finger. He held it out and aimed down the sights. There was no way he was going to fire it now but he was excited to see what they sounded like, how they recoiled, and the damage they would produce. 

He put the blaster back into the corresponding mold it was in and latched the case shut. He looked back up, feeling his cheeks gain some color, and smiled bashfully at Roz and Jango. “Thank you, they’re beautiful.” 

Roz pointed to Jango. “His idea. _These_ are from me, inspired by his gift.” She handed over a wrapped box a bit larger than the weapon case for his Valkyries. Obi-Wan opened it to find twin black pistol holsters (shaped a bit differently than Jango’s holsters), a new utility belt to match his holsters, and other supplies for taking care of his new weapons. 

“Oh! Thank you!” 

Roz winked at him. 

Jango’s turn was next. Roz combined her and Obi-Wan’s gifts so he received his oil and some rare components to install in his vambraces for smoother performance and to make a better connection between his vambraces and _buy’ce_. Mandalorian stuff, you know? 

Roz loved the necklace that Obi-Wan gave her. She put it on before opening Jango’s gift. Her gift from Jango was a mixture of things. One thing was a digital photo of the three that Obi-Wan had no recollection of. Roz clearly took it, though, and she made a bit of a face when she saw it. She also received two small statues, one looking suspiciously like a silver Mandalorian and the other like a mercenary in dark clothes and a grey visor. The third item she received was a knitted midnight blue scarf that she put on without wrapping it around her neck so her necklace was still visible. 

They spent the rest of the cycle watching Life Day movies and drinking Mandalorian alcohol. Since it was most likely their last day on Outland for another month, they were a bit looser with their drinks. Obi-Wan was pleasantly buzzed by the time they were ready to return to their rooms. He was tucked in his spot on the couch, legs resting on the low table (like Jango was, despite Roz’s complaints) with his arms crossed, and leaning against Jango maybe a little too much. Jango, who also had his legs on the low table, had one arm over the back of the couch (just above Obi-Wan’s shoulders) and the other leaning on the armrest to support his drooping head. 

When the current movie ended, Roz clapped her hands together, startling the two men. She got her wings to work, pulled out her datapad, and took a picture of the two. Obi-Wan tried to sit up to complain but couldn’t summon the required strength. 

“Too cute,” the Toydarian gushed. “Sleep well, boys. I’m _so_ glad to see you’re finally cooperating.” And then she was fluttering to her room. 

Obi-Wan turned to look at Jango. The other man was barely awake but he was pinching the bridge of his nose with the hand he was previously leaning against, so he definitely heard Roz. 

“She knows,” Obi-Wan stated bluntly. 

“Yup,” Jango replied unenthusiastically. 

“She’s not throwing a fit like you said she would.” 

“That means she will hold it over our heads and tease us relentlessly.” Jango struggled to push himself up off the couch but he managed eventually. “Let’s just go to bed.” Then he helped Obi-Wan up, too, and they retreated to the ex-Jedi’s room to sleep. Neither of them bathed since they were on Outland most of the day and didn’t go out much. Obi-Wan put his sleeping clothes on and Jango decided to forgo his civvies and only slept in his smalls. Jango gave Obi-Wan some space that night cycle, and Obi-Wan had an unobtrusive, peculiar dream about the Temple gardens. 

During the morning of the next cycle, they both woke up groggy with their legs tangled together. They separated their limbs and went about their normal activities alone in their respective rooms. 

Obi-Wan was leaving his room after getting his shower, brushing his teeth, and combing his hair back, then getting dressed in his everyday gear when he felt something off in the Force. He stopped in his tracks when he recognized a different presence in their shared living space. Terry, Roz, and Jango were already in the main room with an additional person. He forced himself forward warily. 

It was a woman. Her skin was dark—darker than Jango’s—and her hair, tied back in one braid starting near her hairline, was black and shiny and went halfway down her back. She was talking to Jango, holding onto the unarmored man’s elbows and speaking expressively. Her frame looked a lot like Obi-Wan’s; skinny, scars here and there, and containing the muscles she would only require for survival. 

Roz and Terry were seated at the table, watching the interaction. Obi-Wan decided to prowl over to them, remaining silent. Jango noticed him over the woman’s shoulder—and didn’t look the happiest as she continued speaking—but he didn’t move out of her grip. 

Roz gave Obi-Wan a questionable look and Obi-Wan wasn’t sure how to read her expression. Maybe it was apprehension. She was harder to read in the Force sometimes. Probably because she’s a Toydarian. 

The woman finally turned, probably noticing that Jango was no longer paying attention to her. She observed Obi-Wan, tilting her head. Her hands were still on Jango’s arms and the bounty hunter looked less than thrilled. 

“Who’s this?” she asked with a soft voice. 

“Dral, this is Sheeka Tull. I met her after I escaped slavery, when I was looking for my armor. Sheeka, this is Dral Khor. He is my student and hunting partner.” Jango’s words were clear but they lacked his usual energy. His eyes had a faraway gleam to them, too. Something was off… 

Sheeka put one of her hands on Jango’s chest and looked between the two men. Why was she so intent on touching him? Obi-Wan felt the Force tense due to the emotions everyone was giving off. Sheeka was curious and happy and expressing adoration toward Jango, Jango was annoyed and angry, Roz was probably trepid, and Obi-Wan was… jealous. He didn’t like that. It made his chest feel tight and brow heavy. 

“I’m surprised, Jango. You were such a lone wolf when I met you. You’re one of the last people I expected to take on a learner. You didn’t even want anything to do with me, at first,” she sighed. Was her goal to get a rise out of either man? Because she seemed to be ruffling the feathers of both. “How long has he been around?” 

“It doesn’t matter,” Jango growled. He finally removed Sheeka’s hands from himself and went to sit next to Obi-Wan. It put him between the younger man and Sheeka. “You still haven’t told me why you’re here. I would appreciate an answer before I lose my temper.” 

Jango’s form wasn’t easy to see around when he sat down and Obi-Wan wondered if the man was sitting up straight and puffing himself up on purpose. What, he didn’t want Obi-Wan to even be seen? He was already a disgrace because Jango is supposed to be totally independent with no student to toat around like useless luggage so he might as well be hidden from sight, too. 

“Oh… don’t act like you can just kick me out. You _owe_ me.” 

“I would have found my _beskar_ without your help. You got in my way and decided to be a _nuisance_.” His voice dropped to a dangerous level. He was warning her about something. Territory that shouldn’t be crossed, maybe. A story that Obi-Wan wasn’t aware of. 

Sheeka looked off to the side. She wasn’t projecting guilt but Obi-Wan could sense it through the Force. “Fine. I came offering a job since I know that’s how you _operate_ nowadays. It’s about my sister.” 

“I’ve never met your sister,” Jango started sharply. 

“I wasn’t finished!” Sheeka’s flirty (Obi-Wan would say) demeanor from earlier was gone. Now she was almost as cold as Jango. “And you won’t meet her, but she’s gone and got herself in trouble. All I need from you is a module. I have the location of it and everything. You just need to fetch it for me.” 

“Will you even have the credits for this? The farther you make us go, the more expensive this little retrieval job will be.” 

“Barab I. It’s a close enough trip, wouldn’t you think?” Just less than a standard day on the way there. 

“Additional details are still required before I accept…” Jango was partially being petty. 

“There’s an old downed Republic ship on Barab I. There’s a machine on the bridge with the module I need. If you must know, it contains Republic-level navigation routes and other Republic codes and information. I need that equipment so I can smuggle medicine to my sister before she dies from a plague.” 

Jango was silent. Obi-Wan couldn’t tell what expression occupied his face. 

Sheeka continued, going in for a jab, “What does your dear Dral have to say about this? He’s your hunting buddy, do you ever allow him a say in your jobs?” 

Jango slowly turned around to look at Obi-Wan with a searching gaze. Obi-Wan kept his face carefully blank. He was a neutral party in this. He didn’t want to get between these two when he was trying to understand what was between them in the past and present. Not only was there something between Jango and Sheeka, but Republic ships, even if they are crashed or ‘decommissioned’ out in the wild, aren’t guaranteed to be completely abandoned. Leftover droids could still be protecting it or scavengers and other riff-raff could be in the process of raiding for supplies. Though, Obi-Wan has never heard about a Republic starfighter getting sent out during his lifetime, so maybe the ship was done with getting raided. 

Obi-Wan shrugged, giving Jango a slight glare. He made sure that his eyes shone with intent; he _needed_ an explanation later. 

Jango frowned at Obi-Wan in return, clearly not liking the answer. He gave his attention back to Sheeka. “Fine. But I don’t ever want to see your face on Outland ever again. I won’t be as accommodating if you decide to intrude like this again.” 

Hurt shined clear on Sheeka’s face. She crossed her arms in front of her but it looked like she was hugging herself instead of trying to look opposing. In a quiet voice, she asked, “So you don’t feel anything anymore? I’m a been-there-done-that? Did our time together mean nothing to you?” 

Jango shot up out of his chair. “You don’t just get to show up after nine years of no communication and ask if we are still a _thing_ when you’ve admitted to moving on yourself by marrying someone and having _children_ with them! _I’ve_ moved on, but it looks like _you_ haven’t.” 

"You dropped out of existence after we were separated! I searched and searched until my only choice _was_ to move on!" Sheeka cried out. "It wasn't until I had a family and was taking care of them when I finally learned you were still alive, and when that happened, I didn't have a reason to contact you!" 

“No reason to contact me? Now you’re the one acting as if there was nothing between us!” 

“That’s not what I meant and you know it!” 

"So what if I hadn't moved on, huh? I could've been trying to get back on my feet, looking for you, waiting, but you moved on without my knowledge. _You_ would've left _me_ in the dark!" Jango's voice was icy, possibly the most hostile Obi-Wan has ever heard it. 

Though Obi-Wan still wasn’t sure about Sheeka, letting Jango get worked up wasn’t ideal for anyone. He reached out to touch Jango’s nearest arm. The man turned his harsh gaze toward the younger man, eyes visibly softening as he sighed. Obi-Wan wasn’t using the Force to calm him so his reaction was good, right? Jango trusts him and is willing to listen to him… 

Sheeka’s eyes were locked onto Jango’s arm where Obi-Wan was touching him. She swallowed and tore her eyes to look at Jango’s face. “All right. I’ll be waiting on _Spindragon_. I can’t imagine the legendary Jango Fett will even take a week for this simple job.” 

She walked away in the direction of their private hangar, leaving silence in her wake. 

Obi-Wan stared up at Jango’s back, right in the center between his shoulder blades. He was refusing to turn around, continuing to watch the doorway where Sheeka disappeared through. 

Roz cleared her throat after what felt like forever. It drew everyone’s attention to her (except Terry’s, but the droid has been sitting by Roz the entire time and hasn’t uttered a word or gave any indication that she cared about what transpired). 

“Jango…” Roz started carefully, “maybe you should sit and talk to _us_ about this. I think we all would like an explanation.” Jango didn’t move. “Terry almost killed her. How did she know how to dock in our hangar?” 

Jango slowly turned and sat back down. Obi-Wan pulled his hand back to himself and crossed his arms. 

“My systems suggest that Mr. Fett once had a relationship or fling with Miss Tull,” Terry said with a monotone voice. She tilted her head briefly. “I believe my systems are accurate and not in need of updating.” 

Obi-Wan squinted at the droid. She was no longer gold. She had been repainted to a gunmetal grey sometime after Month 9 but before Life Day. Maybe a gift from Roz. However, her sensors were still a startling red, and she aimed them at Obi-Wan. He sat up straighter and looked away. 

“Because we were… It was short and doesn’t mean anything to me anymore. I was looking for my _beskar_ when we ran into each other. She wouldn’t leave me alone and grew on me like a thorn in my side. We got separated after a pirate attack. This is the first time I’ve seen her since.” Obi-Wan caught the _Mand’alor_ looking at him from the corner of his eye. “As for how she knew about our hangar, I don’t know.” 

“Well, she’s only alive because she told Terry she knows Jango,” Roz informed Obi-Wan. 

“I was one-point-three seconds away from shooting,” Terry added, sounding a bit too happy. 

Roz looked displeased before Terry spoke. It wasn’t a secret that Jango Fett frequented Outland Transit Station but it wasn’t absolute public knowledge. Only those with more-than-average knowledge of the Mandalorian could almost confidently say he sometimes spends nights on the station but no one except for Obi-Wan and Roz can confirm that it’s one of his homes (his other home being _Jaster’s Legacy_ ). How Sheeka came across the information was beyond Obi-Wan but it unsettled him. 

“Maybe you should have, Terry…” Jango was getting up from the table. “Get your things ready so this job can only take three days, Dral.” 

The conversation was over. Jango was out of the room and the air was filled with so much tension that it didn’t take being a Force-sensitive to pick up on it. Roz now looked pensive. Obi-Wan wanted to question her but she shooed him off, telling him to follow Jango’s orders so Sheeka can leave the station sooner. 

And so Obi-Wan went to his room to collect his things. His armor (visor included) were all tied together, his falchion and generic blaster were sitting on the dresser next to the case housing his new WESTAR-20 blaster pistols, and his bag he uses to transport clothes. All of the clothes that he usually stored on _Jaster’s Legacy_ had been cleaned on Outland so he would need to put them away again on the ship. No matter… he just had to grab everything he would need… 

* * *

Barab I was pretty much 21 standard hours from Outland. That meant at least two days in total spent in hyperspace and Jango estimated (but mostly hoped) their expedition will take a few hours if they’re lucky. Sheeka’s information about the location of the module she needs was accurate. It led them to an old crash site. It was also far enough from any city so they didn’t have to worry about landing in a restricted zone. 

The starfighter was old and unstable, rusting in several places and dirt breaching different areas of the hull. It was partly sunken into the dry yet swampish land, dirt covering some edges of the ship and some little divots underneath edges of the ship where it looked like mud drained beneath it. Somehow the area wasn’t completely destroyed like the rest of the planet looked. The vegetation all around looked dead, probably from the radiation the planet experiences. The ground was cracked and flaking, looking like it didn’t contain even an ounce of water. 

Inside, the ship was just as bad. Pieces of it were strewn and some parts looked to be missing entirely (probably because scavengers already made their way through the ship a long time ago). Sharp edges threatened to tear their clothes or do even more damage if they were loosened up just a bit. There was a cold draft going through the ship. It smelled—even felt, a bit—wet, but they still have time before the nightly rain moved in so they didn’t know what it was from. 

They had a small timeframe to get Sheeka’s module (if it’s still there…). They only have the evening to safely scour the bridge so they don’t get radiation poisoning and so they don’t risk getting swept away or grounded during the nightly torrential rain. 

They made their way through the ship cautiously. It creaked around them as they went forward. Some bits broke off due to the rust. The bridge was the worst part of the ship, and that’s saying a lot when the ship looked like it cracked right in half like an egg when it crashed. The bridge swayed with the wind, the neck holding it up threatening to break under their light weight (a blaring red flag when it has to hold up against the stress and damage it would receive in battle). 

They scoured the bridge. It didn’t help that everything was dead. Sheeka’s information didn’t include the exact location. Additionally, the code that the module would display was only if it was plugged in to a functioning terminal. Obi-Wan, being an ex-Jedi, has never even been on a Republic ship like this. Even if his true past was out in the open, he couldn’t help with preexisting knowledge. 

Jango finally found something. A small grey box with wires hanging off it from where he removed it from whatever terminal it was connected to. It matched the size estimate and physical description in Sheeka’s information. Even if it wasn’t, they’ll bring it with them to _Jaster’s Legacy_ and return to orbit and wait until the same time the next day to act because they couldn’t keep searching with the threat of drowning in the ship before nightfall. 

They began retracting their steps. Some corridors they previously went through were closed off completely, an unknowing one-way ticket. It made things more difficult while the mercenaries were a bit more desperate with their exit. 

They were currently traversing a shredded elevator shaft. Obi-Wan was standing on a platform when the ship shook suddenly. He set his feet shoulder-width apart and stuck his hands out to help keep his balance. Jango was up ahead, he thought the exit was somewhere near. They were near the split in the ship, they can find a way through the broken ceilings if they have to. 

Jango’s head jerked to the side. He didn’t seem as affected. 

The next tremor came all too soon and that’s when Obi-Wan realized it was because of the platform he was standing on. He looked down at his feet, his stomach sinking with dread. No matter what, he couldn’t move. It’ll most likely break with any movement but it might just break under his weight. Jango spun around; he understood what was about to happen. 

Sure enough, the platform broke within the next seconds. Jango lunged forward with a hand outstretched but was too late, even when he was already on his stomach and gripping the edge of the floor where it split. Obi-Wan desperately tried to grab the offered hand but he went plummeting down with the platform and other pieces of the ship. His body was bashed in different places several times as he fell through small openings with steel ripping at him until he landed on his back in some sort of cavern below the ship. His cuirass cracked loudly when he hit the ground. This was where the damp smell had been coming from, and the only light coming in was around the edges where the ship wasn't covered by the dirt that was trying to swallow the ship. The hole that he fell through was now covered by debris. 

Obi-Wan sat up, feeling his body protest with the movement. He heard movement in a darker portion of the cavern, an animalistic growl following. 

_“Dee?”_ Jango’s voice came over the comlink in his visor. 

Obi-Wan’s head spun as he got to his feet and clicked the button near his ear to answer. “I’m alive but I don’t think I’m alone.” 

_“I can’t get down to you. I need to find a different way.”_

“That’s fine, just please try to hurry.” 

Jango responded affirmatively in _Mando’a_ before going silent. 

The other body in the cavern with Obi-Wan was still moving. It stuck to the shadows as it prowled around the ex-Jedi. Obi-Wan was able to track its movements with the Force. His hands hovered over his holsters. 

The creature finally let out a snarl and leaped. Obi-Wan sidestepped it and pulled out one of his Valkyries. He fired the blaster pistol for the first time, a purple bolt shot out of the weapon, and hit the creature. At the same time, Obi-Wan felt the tail of the creature whip the side of his face. His visor protected his eyes, at the very least. 

The creature scurried off, back into the safety of darkness. 

Obi-Wan released a breath he didn’t know he was holding. His blasters weren’t faulty, the recoil and deep sound of them firing (resembling the sound of Jango’s blasters but deeper toned) were assurances that they were powerful weapons. Yet the creature wasn’t injured. 

He moved toward the light, the creature slowly following. It eventually drew closer and prowled on the edge of the light. A shenbit bonecrusher. It was baring its teeth and rumbling darkly. Its narrowed eyes, horns, and thorny bone-like plating made the lizard look like a miniature dragon. Its plating would be the reason why Obi-Wan’s blasters didn’t injure it. 

The Barabels hunted shenbit bonecrushers for sport, and the shenbit bonecrushers hunted them just as much in return. 

Obi-Wan drew his falchion with his other hand and brought it down onto the shenbit’s head. The reptile lurched forward to sink its razor-sharp teeth into Obi-Wan’s arm and thrashed its head around. Obi-Wan let out a cry. His body briefly seized as pain overwhelmed his mind. His arm could be snapped in the jaws of the creature. It was in the _name_ of the thing. He had to get his limb free before something like that could happen.

He gathered enough of his senses and brought his other arm below the shenbit’s soft underbelly. He fired his blaster once, the bolt hit and the reptile let go. It crawled over Obi-Wan and let out a screech, its maw opening wide and clearly aiming for his head. Its tail whooshed behind it and somehow hit the Valkyrie out of his hand. 

A familiar blaster rang and a red bolt struck the side of the reptile’s head. It caused the creature to stop and hiss at the newcomer. It was enough time for Obi-Wan to draw the twin blaster and fire it as fast as it was able to (not as fast as Jango’s blasters but fast enough to make dangerous blasters deadly). 

Still, it wasn’t quite enough. Obi-Wan began to roll away when teeth latched onto the same arm as before. The vambrace on that arm gave way and crunched under the pressure. Teeth fully sunk in and Obi-Wan whimpered lamely. Jango was firing again, more desperate, and Obi-Wan brought his blaster up again. This time, to fire upward and hopefully hit the shenbit’s brain. He pulled the trigger four times and the creature made a choked noise and slowly went limp. He pulled the trigger one more time and then it hit the ground and he was able to pull his arm free. It was a bit… bloody. His sleeve was already starting to appear red in places from the first time he was bitten. Blood also began to leak directly from the holes in his vambraces where some pieces were embedded in his arm and the fabric of his shirt had been pushed aside effortlessly. 

Jango approached quickly. Obi-Wan gathered and holstered his weapons before hands roughly grabbed him and pulled him to his feet. 

“Well, you held up,” Jango murmured. He was looking over Obi-Wan’s bloodied arm. “We need to get back to the ship. Hold on.” He wrapped his arms around Obi-Wan’s waist tightly before his jetpack ignited and they were heading toward the cracks that the ex-Jedi noticed before.   
  


There were bacta patches on the ship but not enough to cover each bloody little hole made by the shenbit’s teeth. Jango was busy piloting _Jaster’s Legacy_ off Babel I and inputting coordinates to Outland while Obi-Wan was performing first aid on himself in the lounge. He unwillingly injected himself with bacta before he began cutting up bacta patches and sticking them on each wound. 

Jango eventually joined him, drinking something out of a dark bottle. Alcohol, Obi-Wan had to guess. The man was nervous about something. The Force revealed that but his pacing before he sat down was also an indication. Obi-Wan didn’t ask about it. Jango was against drinking on the job but not against drinking during hyperspace. 

“Stitch anything together?” 

Obi-Wan shook his head in answer. Some of the wounds looked like they could have needed it but he wasn’t up for that. An initial injection of bacta would take care of the nastier wounds just fine. A second—and possibly third—injection later might make sure everything is closed up. The mini bacta patches will also do their part. 

He hated how long it took. A significant amount of time passed before he was done. Jango had gone back to the cockpit without a word while Obi-Wan wrapped a thin layer of gauze over his arm to protect the mini patches. He still had to get his shower. All the blood that didn’t soak into the sleeve of his shirt was washed off his arm but he was still sweaty from clambering through the ship. At least bacta patches usually held up for at least one wash. It was unknown how well the resized patches would work, but if the gauze endured, then they should be fine. 

_Jaster’s Legacy_ was unusually quiet. The ventilation system cycled air softly in the background. _Jango_ was acting uncharacteristically (as of late) isolated. He was still in the cockpit, maybe taking some time to be introspective. After he stored the medical kit in its respective storage (and gave himself a short moment to sit and breath), Obi-Wan found himself walking to that part of the ship. 

Jango was halfway through another bottle when Obi-Wan sat in his seat. 

“What are you drinking for?” 

“Preparing to deal with Sheeka,” Jango grunted in reply. 

So soon? “Unless you’re planning to get wasted, I don’t think the alcohol will still be in your system by the time we reach Outland.” He flashed a mischievous smirk and Jango gave him a strained, odd look in return. 

Obi-Wan’s thoughts began to gather after the given response. Sheeka definitely was a bit intense but that still didn’t explain Jango’s early drinking. He said their relationship had been short and no longer meant anything to him. Sheeka seemed to think otherwise. She had been all over Jango on Outland, despite the man’s reserved appearance. Then, when Jango’s anger made an appearance and he called her out on a lack of communication (and with a few exchanged words), Sheeka finally backed off. 

“Did you love her?” It came out softly. Obi-Wan didn’t mean to voice the incoming thought. Well… maybe he did. Sometimes he’s too curious for his own good and he couldn’t pass up the opportunity to know more about the man he shares a bed with at night. 

Jango paused in his drinking. His face scrunched as if he was in pain momentarily as he lowered the bottle. He was facing forward, talking to the windshield. “Loved? I wouldn’t say that.” His voice was unnaturally hollow. “That’s too intense to describe Sheeka’s obsession. Our relationship was budding. Sheeka was—and still is—a very physical person. She’s passionate but she lacks what I look for in a mate. I suppose I humored her too much before breaking the news of my disinterest for her but she already latched onto the attention I gave her and she ran with it.” 

Obi-Wan nodded slowly. “But she has children and is married. Why would she still be interested in you?” Jango _is_ a looker, but it still felt like Obi-Wan was missing something. 

Jango’s laugh was a short huff as he tipped his head back to finish the bottle. “She’s a very attached person. Besides, she _was_ married. She’s a widow now. She’s allowed to be interested in other men again. If she located me, why not try to rekindle the flame, despite the amount of time that has gone by?” He was being sarcastic but Obi-Wan got the point. “Plus, being _Mando_ means I must accept my mate’s children even if they’re not mine. I don’t know if she knows that, but it’s a surefire way to make sure her children grow up with a second _buir_.” 

The ex-Jedi was nodding again as he let his thoughts settle. Sheeka would probably be gone for good after they deliver the module. Jango has made it clear that he doesn’t want anything to do with her and he probably won’t be afraid to stand his ground if she tries to advance on him again. 

Obi-Wan began to stand and Jango followed quickly after. He squinted at Jango and motioned for the other man to leave first. Instead, Jango took a step forward to crowd Obi-Wan’s space. His hands, free of the empty alcohol bottles that should have been occupying them, were raised to ghostly cup Obi-Wan’s face. 

Obi-Wan’s eyes widened and he already felt heat blooming at the tips of his ears and spreading to his cheekbones. 

“Stop me,” Jango murmured, voice suddenly husky. 

Obi-Wan blinked. “Wha—?” 

“Stop me if you don’t want this.” 

He wasn’t given the time to respond. Jango surged forward and connected their lips harshly. His kiss was rough but passionate, irrevocably _Jango_. It felt like he was trying to locate and tear the root of Obi-Wan’s connection to the Force out, almost like he could sense it was there (he most definitely didn’t know it was there but Obi-Wan was at a loss on how to explain it). In a way, it was desperate and a bit aggressive but filled with love and adoration or something akin to that. 

It took a second to get over the shock, but Obi-Wan began to return the kiss. 

Jango’s hands ran through Obi-Wan’s hair quickly, drifting down to his hips as if they were lost. They then ran their way up his spine—causing the younger man’s body to reflexively arch into Jango’s—before returning to cupping his face. Despite that newfound position, Jango was the first to pull away, ending the kiss. He didn’t move his hands and his face was still close but their bodies weren’t touching anywhere else. 

Obi-Wan didn’t want to open his eyes as he breathed in deeply. Part of him was scared to but also because his veins were humming from the bliss of the moment and he was trying to bask in it. Yet if he didn’t open his eyes, he could ruin the moment by not acknowledging Jango. So he opened his eyes and found that he didn’t quite regret it. Jango’s pupils were blown wide; none of the amber in his eyes detectable, just brown. He was panting, lips parted and puffing onto Obi-Wan. 

Obi-Wan rested his hands on Jango’s gently. He wasn’t pushing Jango to move, mostly just doing it so he had somewhere to put his hands without making it awkward and to ground himself. 

He didn’t know how to feel. It felt like his chest was going to burst from the affection that was beginning to multiply in his head and from what Jango was oozing into the Force. He’d been trying to ignore the evolving feelings Jango had been expressing but now it was hitting him. And Obi-Wan, an inexperienced lover who had been burying all of his feelings, was dealing with them all surfacing now. 

Jango’s a passionate warrior. He cares for his family and people. He would fight to the death if he had to and has proven he’s not afraid to kill for them. They had an initial rough relationship but how they’ve been acting lately was a good example of how close they’ve grown. Jango _killed_ one of their most recent targets because he was jealous and angry from how Obi-Wan was getting touched. He tried comforting Obi-Wan after he learned the man suffers from not-so-good dreams. His fear on Druckenwell was real. It was undeniable that something between them has been developing but now it was getting waved in front of Obi-Wan’s face and impossible to be pushed aside anymore. 

Well now he didn’t know what to say… Jango seriously can’t expect _him_ to say something when he was basically jumped. 

“You didn’t stop me…” Jango murmured. 

Obi-Wan licked his lips, tasting blumfruit _tihaar_ , and let out a breathless chuckle. “I’m not sure I’d know how to stop you if I even wanted to.” 

Jango leaned forward to push their foreheads together. He averted his gaze downward but Obi-Wan found himself unable to take his eyes off the _Mand’alor_. “ _Mesh’la_ …” 

“How long have you wanted to do that?” 

The other man huffed. “I enjoyed our first day of the Festival of Life together. I feel like I saw more of your colors that night but I think I’ve wanted to kiss you since you were covered in blood after battling Bane. Even though you tried to kill yourself by going after him, you looked like a _Mando_ after battle.” 

That must be another reason why Jango was no longer interested in Sheeka. He wanted someone who would be able to integrate into Mandalorian life. Obi-Wan has been living like Jango for months now, essentially living like Mandalorians but most importantly the _Mand’alor_ himself. He understood he fits the bill since Jango had asked him multiple times to join the culture. Additionally, Jango trusted Obi-Wan a lot more than he used to. And they were already sleeping together. They have definitely mixed up the steps to partaking in a functioning relationship but maybe their accidental convoluted approach was the only way something would work for them. 

“I want to pursue this… _cyare_ …” Jango said in almost a whisper. “I could make you my _riduur_. The _Haat_ _Mando’ade_ would kill to meet you. Or we could hunt for the rest of our lives or settle down on some unknown planet and live as farmers…” 

Obi-Wan had never thought about his future deeply. Jedi tend to live long lives if they aren’t killed in civil wars on planets they are supposed to break up or in pathetic skirmishes. He fully expected to be one of those Jedi killed foolishly in a conflict, but after he became Dral Khor, his future was less certain. There were a lot more ways to die when you’re not a Jedi. Exiled Jedi especially have a way of disappearing, whether purposefully or in 'freak accidents'… 

Jango met his eyes once more and Obi-Wan’s breath caught in his throat. His future became extremely uncertain once the _Mand’alor_ entered his life, in both good and bad ways. Jango was speaking of their future, together, with raw emotion. He was putting his full trust in Dral now, probably for the first time since they’ve known each other. It was almost overwhelming; how much Obi-Wan had buried his own thoughts and emotions. 

“ _Elek_ , we can try it,” Obi-Wan breathed. 

Jango smirked and leaned forward to connect their lips again, much much gentler this time. Obi-Wan made a noise and he could feel Jango smirk in response. 

The _Mand’alor_ pulled back. He looked radiant. “I will accept that.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, Life Day! I put it at the end of the Festival of Stars because there's no clear date and it seemed fitting. Month 10 then happens and the new year starts at the beginning of New Year's Fete. 
> 
> Translations:  
> tiingilar - an intensely spicy Mandalorian stew/casserole  
> tihaar - colorless alcohol spirit with high alcohol content and strong taste that often burned the mouth and throat when ingested  
> kri’gee - a bitter Mandalorian ale with a significantly potent alcohol content  
> mesh'la - beautiful  
> cyare - beloved, loved  
> riduur - partner, spouse  
> Haat Mando’ade - True Mandalorians  
> elek - yes


	27. Chapter 27

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We've got some **big** things coming up.
> 
> there's a scene _bordering_ on explicit in this chap

_Flames spread through the room in a large gust of wind. An invisible force kept them at bay, letting the fire go around them. Barely. The flames almost singed their hair and stiff clothes._

_The expensive flooring and walls held up against the flames. Though the rest of the scene beyond the fire was dark and blurry. Some items glittered, but the floor was probably the darkest item, swallowing most of the light in the room._

_Obi-Wan was a statue. His hands were raised to the sky in front of himself and his feet were stuck in place. His emotions were too far to grasp in this state. All he was focused on was staying alive. It meant ignoring the adorned figure behind him._

_The flames eventually subsided and he almost collapsed. The figure behind him was now the statue, comprehending the display._

_Negative emotions filled the space around them. Emotions invaded his senses and forced their way into his lungs. He could taste the hatred on his tongue. It was enough to choke and make him hunch over as if it was a pain in his gut. Overall, it was suffocating. His breath was shortened. It was like the fire was still there, eating up all the oxygen they needed._

_Then, one word rang out, harsh and crisp and right in his ear, “_ Jetii _.”_

Obi-Wan woke with a start and bolted upright and to the side of his bed before Jango could even tighten his arms reactively in his sleep. He cracked his eyes open with confusion and looked at the younger man. 

“Dee?” he questioned quietly. 

Obi-Wan was sitting on the edge of the bed, bent forward and staring at his still hands. He was shaking internally. There was a small headache starting to form behind his brow. 

“Dee?” Jango repeated, louder this time. 

“Sorry. Bad dream. Guess you can’t keep all of them away, huh?” he tried to joke but it sounded hollow to his own ears. 

Jango blanketed himself over Obi-Wan’s back. He wrapped his arms around the younger man’s shoulders and craned his head to plant a kiss on Obi-Wan’s cheek. “If you don’t want to talk about it, then try to get back to sleep.” 

Obi-Wan almost zoned out then and there. Did he just experience a vision? His visions tended to be shorter than dreams. It would explain why he was shaking internally but not outwardly. It could be false, though. All visions have a chance to be false. 

Or it could just be a plain old bad dream, triggered by the fruit tarts he had before bed… 

Jango gave him a very light tug. “Come, back to bed.” 

Obi-Wan followed automatically. They laid back down together, Obi-Wan curling up below Jango’s chin and feeling those familiar hands stroke up and down his back comfortingly. He was pulled back under, feeling understandably drained. 

* * *

Month 10 was full of other jobs and they worked through New Year’s Fete (Jango’s reasoning was because contractors tend to be more desperate during holidays and will pay higher for simpler jobs). Roz didn’t agree with their extended absence but they managed to return the first day of the start of the new year for a smaller celebration. 

Obi-Wan and Jango’s relationship was smooth. It was advancing every day. They still slept together every night, in Obi-Wan’s room if they were at Outland or Jango’s cabin if they were on _Jaster’s Legacy_. Jango became a bit bolder and was a lot more touchy (Obi-Wan wasn’t too surprised by the touchiness. Jango was already a bit touchy beforehand but it ramped up as their relationship progressed). He smothered Obi-Wan with kisses and kneaded his muscles at night, both acts often making Obi-Wan a boneless mess to be scooped up and sheltered. On most nights Jango surrounded Obi-Wan with his warm body. Their bodies were always touching in someplace but Jango was obsessed with having their torsos touching (especially now that he was forgoing shirts because of the status of their relationship). Their actions never went farther, no matter how turned-on either man became (and yes, as much of a virgin Obi-Wan is, he recognized the functions of his body). 

They eventually let Roz in on the change. They knew they couldn’t hide it from her for very long and if they tried then she would probably get on her case. After the announcement, she smirked at them and said, “Finally! It took you long enough!” and then Obi-Wan flushed with embarrassment. Her teasing was steadfast, however, and she was always finding ways to keep the men on their toes whenever they were on Outland. 

They stayed on Outland for a few additional days of Month 1. The head of Outland Station’s security extended an invite through Roz to partake in a little fly-around within Outland’s atmospheric territory. Jango readily accepted to use it as a learning opportunity for Obi-Wan. Obi-Wan was getting a refresher on flying _Jaster’s Legacy_ but also a lesson on dogfights with Jango taking over piloting at that point. 

_Jaster’s Legacy_ handled well. The gunship had a mixture of utilities to play offense and defense. Though it probably favored offense before it looked like someone tampered with everything by adding components like a stealth drive and a deactivated booster shield generator (the latter being a component that would severely drain the ship’s energy levels). 

After several standard hours of dogfighting and letting Obi-Wan pilot _Jaster’s Legacy_ while dogfighting, they docked back in their private hangar and made their way to their private living quarters. When entering the main room where they spend their time as a family, a familiar Mandalorian standing at the back of the couch came into view. Silver _beskar_ a shade lighter than Jango’s but also accented with blues, yellow shoulder pauldrons (the right one with a blue mythosaur symbol printed on it), and a blue cape matching the rest of the accents was pinned beneath the pauldron with the mythosaur on it. 

Jango put on the breaks at the same time their guest turned to look at them. They were only standing a few meters apart. Obi-Wan was standing directly at Jango’s side and felt his guard begin to rise. Jango knew the _Mando_ and Obi-Wan recognized them from a dream. 

“Jango.” 

Jango was silent and unmoving. 

“Are you going to introduce me, Jango, or must I do it myself?” 

“Dral, this is Myles, my second in command, the de facto leader of the True Mandalorians…” Jango introduced through gritted teeth. 

“I am also his head advisor.” 

Myles removed his _buy’ce_ and held it against his hip. He was a human, his skin about the same shade as Jango’s, and his eyes were a startling blue with brown on the outer rim of his irises. His short-cropped hair was sandy blond speckled with fewer darker hairs. There was a dark, nasty scar in front of his right ear that went downward and went along most of his neck horizontally. 

He stared at the couple with cold eyes, mostly focusing on Jango but was outwardly scrutinizing Obi-Wan. 

“It’s been a long time, Myles…” 

“Too long, Jango, and I don’t mean that in the way old friends greet when they are happy to see each other.” 

It was silent for a few excruciating seconds. Jango wasn’t wounded by that comment but maybe a bit shocked. Myles didn’t seem to regret his words. 

“Why are you here? I _ordered_ you to stay out of contact. You are in charge of the _Mando’ade_ in my absence. I stated explicitly to only reach out in cases of extreme emergencies or jobs I am required for,” Jango growled. He took a threatening step forward.

Myles’ eyes lit up with anger immediately. His back straightened reactively and his lip curled in a way that reminded Obi-Wan of Jango. “Don’t forsake all that Jaster built like that. We’ve all held on and waited, but you haven’t come to collect us.” His voice was quiet. 

“Don’t bring him up.” Jango’s voice was quiet in a warning. 

Obi-Wan placed his hand on Jango’s elbow, right above his vambrace. Myles’ eyes were tracking the movement instantly. He squinted at the younger man before going back to staring down Jango. 

“Then _lead us_. We are the smallest _Mando_ sect. Tension between the _Vube Mando’ade_ and _Kyr’tsad_ is beginning to rise. It won’t be long before something happens between them and _we_ get dragged into it.” Myles took a step forward. His face softened slightly and his voice became a bit gentler. “I only brought your _buir_ up because I helped advise him and now I am not only your main advisor but also your second in command. I am _advising_ you to step back onto the mantle of _Mand’alor_. _Manda’yaim_ and the _Mando’ade_ need you, _‘Alor_.” 

Jango was silent. He was without his _buy’ce_ but had the rest of his _beskar’gam_ on. He turned to look at Obi-Wan, eyes critical and expression resembling Myles’ own that made him appear unfamiliar. That had to be the look of Mandalorians. A war-hardened face with sharp eyes and determination detectable through the way his jaw was set. The face of a warrior grown on violence, loyalty, and family. 

Obi-Wan couldn’t read the emotion on Jango’s face but the Force suggested he was battling with denying his lieutenant and accepting the invitation to return to his True Mandalorians. He wanted to return but he still wasn’t over the guilt after the Battle of Galidraan. Even if his Mandalorians wanted to see them, he was afraid to face them. The thought of facing the family members of those who died on Galidraan was overwhelming. 

Obi-Wan reached forward to cup Jango’s left cheek with his right hand. The man promptly leaned into the touch and closed his eyes with a soft exhale. The ex-Jedi felt weird doing this in front of someone Jango has known for years (or anyone for that matter) but Jango responds better to contact than words (maybe a Mandalorian trait instilled in him). He breathed deeply for a few moments before he cracked his eyes open and removed himself from the touch to acknowledge his second in command once more. 

“ _Riduur_?” Myles was staring at Obi-Wan before he turned his questioning gaze to Jango. His expression was lacking his earlier anger. He looked soft and curious, maybe even a bit bashful. “ _Paba gar dasa’na kaysh at garioa Mando_?” 

Jango stiffened and ground out, “ _Kaysh suvarir Mando’a_.” 

An uncomfortable smile spread on Myles’ face and he regarded Obi-Wan slowly. “Apologies, Dral, I didn’t mean to speak of you like you weren’t there.” He sounded genuine, which was a good thing. He turned back to Jango. “ _Jang’ika_ has himself a _cyar’ika_ … Jaster would be proud. He has taught you well. I am sure Dral is as much of a warrior Jaster has taught you to look for.” 

He’s a Jedi getting trained by the _Mand’alor_ of the True Mandalorians. He sure is a warrior, but not the type of warrior either of the Mandalorians knew or liked. 

“Well, Dral, I humbly invite you—as Jango’s _cyare_ and a potential future _Mando_ —to see the True Mandalorians for what we really are.” Myles bowed mockingly, an action that made Jango huff in amusement. When he came back up, the little smirk on his face wiped away a bit. “And I do have a job, _‘Alor_. Silas found it. We both think you would enjoy it.” 

“Would you like to discuss this over a meal?” 

Myles swayed on his feet oddly. “I would hate to intrude on your personal matters.” 

“Dral isn’t terrible at making our meals. It won’t be hard to make _tiingilar_ for final meal.” 

Obi-Wan scowled at the playful jab. Myles and Jango both chuckled lightly. 

“Well, I can’t resist some adequate _tiingilar_.” 

Myles went to browse Merchant Row while Obi-Wan and Jango prepared final meal. They moved around the kitchen with practiced ease as they made the stew and, for dessert, _uj’alayi_. At some point, Jango contacted Roz to let her know of their guest. Since she was the one to let Myles into their home, she knew about his presence and was fine with having him as a guest for their meal. As she put it, “It would be an honor to eat with one of your fellow Mandalorians.” 

Once they sat down to eat, Myles sitting next to Roz and across from Jango who sat next to Obi-Wan (with Terry sitting stiffly at the head of the table), Myles began to explain. 

“I’ve been keeping Silas busy, as per your order…” There was an unvoiced disagreement behind his words. “He found a Black Sun transport ship. The information that he has collected suggests it is part of the slave trade. Osia has helped him collect the data but it holds true. We have an efficient way of tracking the ship. So part of the reason why I came here was to not only attempt to convince you to return, but it is also a job we knew you would be interested in. Others who are interested have already been collected. Once we return and choose the others, we will leave. Even your _cyare_ can come. It would be a good experience for us all.” 

“How long would you be gone?” Roz asked. 

“Roz, this has never mattered in the past,” Jango said as if he was going to be the one to start an argument. 

“No, but—” Roz hesitated. A deep frown came over her face. Her expression caused Jango to sit back in his seat and ready himself for arguing. “I am happy to see you return to your Mandalorians but you know I worry when you go out. _Especially_ after your last few jobs.” 

“That was Dral in danger.” 

Myles, very confused, asked for clarification, so their last few jobs were retold. That included the job of guarding Idas and retrieving her brother, the job for Sheeka, and the virus job. His face at the end of the final retelling was pure shock and a bit of awe. It seemed Myles has heard about Cad Bane and he was impressed, at the same time, that Obi-Wan was able to stay on all the jobs despite receiving debilitative damages. 

“So, I hope you understand, Myles. I also worry about Dral. You two would be the only Mandalorians he knows. I don’t want his brain getting broken out of shock.” Or more like she didn’t want him getting slaughtered if they find out he was a Jedi. 

Myles nodded his head curtly. He scooted in his seat a bit, like he was getting ready to have all attention on him so he could give a report. “The transport always goes through the Mandalore sector, and we plan to attack in whatever system it’ll visit. I can assure you, we can head this way right after. Additionally, we can make sure that we keep an eye on Dral. Though we are a warrior people, and we are expected to carry our own weights, the mate of our _‘Alor_ is almost as important as the _‘Alor_ themself, so we can keep an extra eye out for him at all times.” 

“That sounds better…”

Despite the ‘better’ arrangement, Obi-Wan still didn’t like it. He was going to be around a lot of Mandalorians. Them keeping an eye on him at all times sounded worse than being left alone because now he couldn’t have any slip-ups. He would be like a child allowed to roam an armory but not allowed to touch any of the weapons. He had to act like the perfect little mercenary (and mate, he supposed?) that would be expected of him. He had to be the most non-Jedi as possible while around a bunch of Jedi-hating people. 

“Dral looks like he disagrees,” Myles pointed out nonchalantly. 

All eyes went to Obi-Wan, even the digital red pair. He set his utensils down and shrugged. “I can hold my own. I appreciate the extra caution but I don’t need a dedicated guard.” 

“I wouldn’t call it a guard,” the Mandalorian opposed. “It’s caution; extra eyes watching your back so you don’t ever get caught off guard. It’s to keep you protected, especially since you lack _beskar_ and since you are the _‘Alor’s riduur_.” 

Jango finally held up a hand. Myles, who looked like he was ready to start arguing, became silent and the heated expression on his face waned. His eyes darted to his _Mand’alor_ obediently. Obi-Wan briefly mused at how easily Jango was obeyed. Either all of his True Mandalorians were like that or Myles was just an exception, but Myles was displaying pure loyalty and trust in his leader. 

“We’ll see when we get there. Dral _is_ capable; Roz just likes to worry.” 

It felt a bit like a back-handed compliment, but Obi-Wan would take it. Roz looked at him uncomfortably. _She tried, there’s no denying that._

They finished eating in a terse atmosphere. After everything was cleaned up, Myles said he was returning to his ship for the night cycle. That way, Jango had one more night on Outland and so he and Obi-Wan could work through anything before they leave. 

That found them back in Obi-Wan’s room, all cleaned up and ready for sleep. They were facing each other, their legs tangled but their upper bodies not too close so they could talk. 

“You seem displeased,” Jango started with. 

“I’m not—” Obi-Wan cut himself off with a frown. To say that he wasn’t would be a bit dishonest. He wasn’t looking forward to being surrounded by Mandalorians and he still had to tell Jango that he used to be a Jedi. “I’m worried. You remember that I was raised on Zeffo and the society of swordsmen I come from?” He got a nod, so he continued, “We are based on the Jedi… There are bad relations between Jedi and Mandalorians, so we in that society grew up with an inherited stigma against Mandalorians.” 

“We’ve never even heard of you.” 

“No, but the fact stands. You and Myles are the only Mandalorians I’ve come across. Many from my society are gifted with the Force. I can’t imagine that all of your True Mandalorians are willing to accept me if they hear that I am like a Jedi. Would _you_ accept me if I was a Force user?” 

Jango cringed slightly. He was hesitating now. It wasn’t a complete confession but it was close. He didn’t know Obi-Wan had actually been a Jedi but the dots could be connected now that Obi-Wan has brought attention to it; that _at the very least_ he could be Force-sensitive. But he didn’t seem to connect the dots. Whether it was refusal to think that way or just being dense, Jango wasn’t going to connect the dots. 

“But _you_ aren’t a _jetii_ and if you prove yourself they will accept you.” 

Obi-Wan sighed. That wasn’t the answer he wanted. Jango was ignoring the connection and choosing to focus on how Obi-Wan and the Mandalorians will interact. He was focusing on melding two parts of his life together but all Obi-Wan felt was blatant disregard. He has to outright tell Jango, it seems. 

“Jango, work with me. What if? I know you don’t like the sound of it, but this is why I’m bringing it up. Maz never was a Jedi and you showed your distaste for her very outwardly. What if I have Force abilities? What if I’ve been keeping them a secret, or just don’t know how to use them? _Maz_ never showed her abilities to you and you immediately hated her. Force abilities don’t seem hard to hide.” 

Jango pulled Obi-Wan close and connected their lips. He forced the younger man’s mouth open with his tongue to take over the territory. Obi-Wan was still new to some of the things Jango did so he allowed it but made a noise of disproval. From past experiences, Jango can be effortlessly described as aggressive and has revealed himself to be that even in the bedroom (Obi-Wan was still sporting bruises that Jango sucked into the crook of his shoulder from the previous night). He was acting that way a bit now. He turned Obi-Wan onto his back and climbed over him, getting his hands under Obi-Wan’s shirt and slid it off with no issues. He moved to start kissing his way up Obi-Wan’s torso, starting right at the elastic of Obi-Wan’s sleep pants. 

Little devil… they both know what they do to each other and Jango was trying to spur Obi-Wan on so they don’t have to talk about Force-sensitives and Mandalorians. Obi-Wan could feel himself heating up as Jango gave attention to his body. When he made it back up to Obi-Wan’s face, he planted one kiss on Obi-Wan’s lips before putting a few inches between their faces.

“Are you admitting to something?”

Obi-Wan couldn’t make out Jango’s face well in the dark but he could imagine his mischievous eyes and shiny lips. 

“I…” 

“We are warriors, not _jetii_. We are capable and deadly. You will fit in with my _Haat Mando’ade_. They will accept you.” He kissed both corners of Obi-Wan’s mouth. “Our enemies will fall before us. I may eventually retake the full title of _Mand’alor_ and I want you by my side when I do it.” 

He briefly ground their groins together. Obi-Wan pushed his head back into the blankets and focused on controlling his breathing as pleasure began to build up in his core until Jango let out a groan and rolled onto his side, bringing Obi-Wan with him. 

Obi-Wan’s mind was clouded with love and lust but his thoughts weren’t pushed too far away. Jango was talking differently, brushing Obi-Wan off. So it sounded like he was set on returning to his people. And not only was he talking about a shared future with Obi-Wan, but he was beginning to sound like a Mandalorian Jedi scriptures warned of. 

Late in the morning cycle, they packed their things like normal—like they were preparing for a job close in or near the Core Worlds. Jango advised wearing everyday job gear so the Mandalorians would take Obi-Wan seriously (appearances didn’t totally matter but some Mandalorians won’t be as accepting as Myles was, so dressing in armor and appropriate clothes was the best way to almost completely guarantee Obi-Wan wouldn’t be brushed off). Obi-Wan put on his normal outfit of less armor, boots, utility pants, dark long sleeve shirt, and vest containing his lightsabers. He felt like bringing his lightsabers with him was a bad idea but they were the only things keeping him sane as he thought about being among many Mandalorians. He also donned his visor, neck gaiter (keeping it bunched around his neck), and new leather holsters containing his WESTAR-20 blaster pistols, attaching them to his new utility belt. He also attached his falchion to his belt. Once he was dressed entirely, he also gathered additional clothes he would need for later days. 

Roz and Myles were waiting in the main room (Obi-Wan entered alone since Jango had to return to his own room for his supplies). Roz was wringing her hands nervously while Myles stood stock-still next to her, holding his _buy’ce_ against his side with his other arm directly at his side. Roz gave the Mandalorian next to her a side-eyed glance before fluttering forward hesitantly to meet Obi-Wan. Myles’ eyes followed her critically the entire time. 

“Dral, can we have a little chat before you leave?” she asked. 

Relief made Obi-Wan’s shoulders loosen as he nodded enthusiastically. He followed her to her private office where Terry was looming in one of the corners of the room. The droid gave Obi-Wan a robotic wave as he came in and sat in one of the seats situated across from Roz’s desk. 

Roz settled behind the desk in the plush chair with a sigh. “I’ve never discouraged Jango from meeting with his True Mandalorians before but I also never expected you two to be _this_ close when they met back up… How are you holding up? How much _do_ I have to worry about you?” 

“I’m an ex-Jedi getting dragged into the lair of Mandalorians by the _Mand’alor_ himself. I’m expecting to get torn apart.” He tried to make it sound like a joke but it was all serious. 

“Have you told Jango about your past yet?” 

“I was trying to talk to him about it last night but he brushed it off. I told him that my ‘society’ is based on the Jedi Order and some of us were able to use the Force but he either didn’t like the idea that I am one of them or he refused the idea of me being one of those people. He wouldn’t even entertain the idea of me being Force-sensitive like Maz.” Not telling Jango is going to get him in trouble but telling Jango directly can turn out ugly. There really isn’t a good way to go about it. Jango won’t respond well to hearing that a Jedi (even if Obi-Wan is no longer a Jedi) has been under his nose for almost a whole year but Obi-Wan can’t live his whole life in secret and lying about his past. 

“Maybe try again,” Roz suggested. “Get some alcohol in him to loosen up.” 

“That’s all the advice you have? I don’t think alcohol is the best approach.” 

“At the moment, yes. Jango can be unpredictable, what can I say? I can send a message to your datapad if I come up with anything else. Don’t be afraid to contact me when you’re out there.” 

So Obi-Wan wasn’t in any better of a position. He was glad Roz wanted to check in with him, but heer having nothing to offer him made him feel downtrodden. He stood from his chair, causing Roz to mirror the action, and grabbed his bag. 

“Sounds good,” he muttered. 

“I’m sorry, dear…” 

She followed him back to the living area. Jango was standing with Myles with his own bag of things on his back. He was in his _beskar’gam_ but wasn’t wearing his _buy’ce_ either so it was obvious when he was looking between Roz and Obi-Wan. Myles still looked at them critically. 

“Everything fine?” Jango questioned. 

“Peachy!” Roz answered cheerfully. 

“Are we ready?” Myles asked. He slid out of his stiff posture. 

“Yes. We are heading to _Jaster’s Legacy_.” Jango moved towards Obi-Wan. He pulled out a pair of grippy, black gloves that were missing the index and middle fingers to give to the younger man. Obi-Wan automatically put them on. Something to impress the Mandalorians? 

“I’ll call the _Furnace_ ,” replied Myles as he also began to move. “She’ll respond and ping you with a location and when you can dock.” 

They parted ways, Myles leaving first. Jango and Obi-Wan said their goodbyes to Roz and left to board _Jaster’s Legacy_. 

It didn’t take them long to get settled. They brought their things to their rooms then went to the cockpit to wait for a signal. A message came through later, containing coordinates and other relevant information. Jango acknowledged the ping and flew the ship out of the private hangar and in the correct direction. After a few hours, a large transport identified as _Furnace_ came into view. A calculated position… not far enough away to enter hyperspace but too far away to be a short flight for curious travelers. 

Upon seeing the ship, Obi-Wan sat up and gripped the armrests of his seat in the cockpit tightly as they neared it. It was a good-sized transport, large enough to carry a decent amount of Mandalorians… 

A transmission came through with more docking directions. 

Obi-Wan began to brace himself. He would be surrounded by Mandalorians for at least one week, and that’s just on the way to the Mandalore sector… 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [fanart](https://bureau-pinery.tumblr.com/post/641855332244684800/scene-from-in-the-hearts-of-men-tenn) by bureau-pinery!
> 
> Did someone say **True Mandalorians**? Well, here they come. Is this a good or bad omen? Only time will tell... 
> 
> Translations:  
> Vube Mando’ade - New Mandalorians  
> Kyr’tsad - Death Watch (Death Society, a breakaway Mandalorian sect)  
> buir - parent  
> Manda’yaim - Mandalore (the planet)  
> Mando'ade - Mandalorians, the sons and/or daughters of Mandalore  
> Mand'alor - sole ruler, leader of the Mandalorian people  
> 'Alor - Mand'alor  
> riduur - partner, spouse  
> Paba gar dasa’na kaysh at garioa Mando? - Have you asked him to become Mandalorian?  
> Kaysh suvarir Mando’a - He understands Mando'a  
> 'ika- diminutive suffix written as 'ika (also added to a name as a very familiar or childhood form)  
> cyar'ika - darling, sweetheart  
> cyare - beloved, loved  
> tiingilar - an intensely spicy Mandalorian stew/casserole  
> uj’alayi - uj cake; a dense, very sweet flat cake made of crushed nuts, syrup, dried fruit, and spices, favored by Mandalorians  
> jetii - Jedi  
> Haat Mando'ade - True Mandalorians
> 
> (if you've noticed, I don't include every single Mandalorian word used in each chapter. I have used some so many times, I'm presuming they are known enough so I don't need to provide the translations/meanings of them. I'm saying this now because some of the words included in this chapter's translations probably will eventually be phased out of future translations. From time to time they might appear as refreshers, but [words like] jetii, for example, seem self-explanatory. Do not worry; I will always translate sentences that are in Mando'a.)


	28. Chapter 28

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I missed Jangobi week and I'm a bit saddened. I didn't come across the final prompts until the night before the week started and there was no way I would have been able to prepare anything within a day... Oh well, maybe next year. But it's good to see all the art and fics that came out of it!
> 
> I was also such a mess this past week. Uni (and the weather) kicked my ass (I literally didn't write a single word in the chapter I'm supposed to be working on). Let's hope it doesn't show in that or this chapter. 
> 
> I hope you all are staying safe and healthy! For those of you also getting hit by snow (I will be in blizzard conditions tonight!), stay warm and drive safe (but only if you have to drive)!

When they performed for the Jedi Masters in an attempt to impress them to become their Padawans, Obi-Wan had been nervous. But everyone is, everyone _should_ be. The punishment for not getting chosen to be someone’s Padawan results in being sent to the AgriCorps. Obi-Wan had battled his rival, Bruck Chun, and they fought so aggressively, Qui-Gon didn’t want either of them as a Padawan. Obi-Wan had been downtrodden until Kencha came along at the very last moment and claimed him as his Padawan. Kencha saved him from getting sent to the AgriCorps, but thanks to his deep-rooted bad luck, Obi-Wan was eventually sent there. 

So few instances in his life can match the same level of nerves that he experienced that day. Another time could be when he was on his way to Outland Transit Station for the first time. He had been alone on that ship for days with no one to talk to and only his thoughts to keep him company. He had been heading into the unknown, walking away from everything he knew. Now, another day to add is when he meets a portion of the True Mandalorians. 

While Jango was growing with excitement and fear (of being rejected by his people), Obi-Wan felt like he was going to die from his heart beating out of his chest. 

Myles arrived on _Furnace_ before them but the pilot of the transport ship was directing them to dock in a different place of the hangar bay. Jango was getting directed to land near the center, where there were fewer ships around them. A perfect place to make sure they have all eyes on them. A place meant for the _Mand’alor_ to land. Front and center for all to see and for easy access. 

Once _Jaster’s Legacy_ was sitting on its landing gears, the pair of mercenaries sat motionless in the cockpit. Jango was still gripping the controls and hadn't moved an inch. 

Obi-Wan was the first to move, surprisingly. He let go of his seat’s armrests to ease the tension in his shoulders. “Don’t you want to greet your Mandalorians?” With the angle of the windshield and overall height of the ship, they weren’t able to see if anyone was coming unless they stood up and leaned over the console. The atmosphere around _Jaster’s Legacy_ was not only buzzing from their minds, but also from some of the nearby Mandalorians on the _Furnace_. 

“I do, but it’s just now hitting me…” Jango whispered. “They’re accepting me back.” 

“Well, Myles arrived to collect you. I don’t see why he would bring you back if you wouldn’t be accepted.” _Some_ might not accept Jango back but it doesn’t seem to be a secret that he was still _Mand’alor_ even as he had been taking a break from the lifestyle. Myles may have been running things in Jango’s absence but he seemed more than ready to step aside. 

Jango nodded to himself. He finally let go of the controls and stood. He began to move out of the cockpit but stopped to look back at Obi-Wan. “Are you coming?” 

He didn’t want to. It felt like his heart was going to give out at any moment. An ex-Jedi living in secret under the nose of the _Mand’alor_ of the True Mandalorians was about to meet the True Mandalorians… He didn’t know if the other True Mandalorians shared their _Mand’alor’s_ hatred for Jedi but that felt like a good reason for not wanting to leave the safety of the ship. 

“If I have to…” he mumbled, unclasping his visor from his face to put it around his neck with his neck gaiter. 

“You do,” Jango replied hurriedly. He waited until Obi-Wan was on his feet and walking towards him before he himself left the cockpit and extended the boarding ramp. Once it was fully extended, Obi-Wan joined him and Jango began to walk down the ramp with his student a few steps behind. 

There were three Mandalorians waiting below and Myles, helmet-less, could be seen approaching in the distance. One of those waiting Mandos was another familiar figure. Deep gold-brass _beskar_ , much taller than the other few gathered, red accents and a matching red cape, and red shoulder pauldrons, the one on their left shoulder had a white mythosaur painted on it and the cape attached beneath it. The same Mandalorian that Obi-Wan saw in his dream that showed him Myles for the first time. Though… there were some changes to their armor that didn’t match. 

Their helmet had two little additions to it. There was a triangular extension above each of the panels on the sides of their helmet. The plating on their chest was one piece and they didn’t wear a flak vest (the _beskar_ was attached to their flight suit made of a different material). Some _beskar_ plating looked to cover their sides, and Obi-Wan couldn’t say how their backside looked but he believed it safe to say there would be _beskar_ there. Though they had the same red shoulder pauldrons, there were rerebraces directly beneath and their vambraces also stuck up past their elbows. Above each shoulder pauldron was a strap of _beskar_ decorated with sharp spikes. The cuisses covered the front of the wearer’s thighs and wrapped around the back, too, leaving their inner thighs exposed. The poleyns were normal (for a set of digitigrade legs…) but the greaves pretty much matched the design of the poleyns. 

Jango finished walking down the ramp with his _buy’ce_ in one hand and used the other to grip each of the waiting Mandalorians’ forearms in greeting. Once they were all reacquainted, they stepped back to allow space for Myles when he rejoined them but also so Obi-Wan could be viewed more easily. 

“Dral, I want you to meet my old friend, Silas, he/him,” the Mandalorian in laurel green _beskar_ with blue accents and yellow shoulder pauldrons nodded, “and two more of my advisors, Shae and Osia, both she/her,” Shae was the Mandalorian in the gold _beskar_. Osia, much shorter compared to Shae (who had to be at least seven feet tall), was in _beskar_ striped in sunset and teal, with shoulder pauldrons and accents painted black. 

Obi-Wan gripped each of their forearms in greeting as Jango introduced him. “This is Dral Khor, he/him. I am teaching him the life of a mercenary and bounty hunting. He is also my _cyare_ … I request you to show your faces.” 

Silas removed his helmet first. He was a plain man. His hair was chocolate brown and messy, not quite the length of Obi-Wan’s hair but it was enough to get in his green eyes and be a pain. His skin was fair but not as pale as Obi-Wan’s. His face was long and his jaw was square. He was about the same height as Myles but not as built. 

Shae removed her helmet next and revealed herself to be a Togorian (it explained her height and the triangles on her helmet…). Her coat was pale orange and the fur on her chin, neck, and around her eyes was white. Her short ears looked to have white tips and her long whiskers above her eyes and near her nose were also white. Her nose was pink. Her feline eyes were a warm amber. She towered over all of them and Obi-Wan made a note to himself to not make her angry. She would be able to maim Obi-Wan with one powerful blow. 

Osia was the last to remove her helmet. She was a Mirialan, a head shorter than Obi-Wan and Jango. Her skin was a fair-yellow green, her black hair pulled back into a bun with some short bangs plastered to her forehead (that refused to stay with the rest of her hair when pushed out of her face). She had no facial tattoos but there were some black designs running down the sides of her neck and the fingerless gloves that she wore revealed her tattooed fingers. Her face was heart-shaped, containing blue eyes that contrasted her skin. She looked younger than Obi-Wan. 

Obi-Wan didn’t have anything to say except that it was an assemblage of Mandalorians, that was for sure. 

“Jango is finally settling down? We thought you would be a spectral legend until you died on a battlefield,” Osia teased with a smirk. She sounded young, too. If Silas isn’t an advisor, who looked older than her, then why is she? 

“Jaster was graced with a wild _adiik_ with enough spunk and attitude to equal five lieutenants,” Myles said as he was finally close enough. “He just had to find the right person to tame him.” His eyes were concentrated on Obi-Wan. The ex-Jedi felt a chill going down his spine. He found that he didn’t like those striking eyes on him. He would try to get a glimpse of Myles’ emotions through the Force but felt like that wasn’t a good idea without knowing if there are Force-sensitives nearby. 

“Or he found someone who fuels the flames,” Shae inputted with a deep voice. She tilted her head and stared down Jango. “Still aren’t going to don your _jai’galaar’la sur’haii’se_?” 

“No,” Jango growled in response. 

Obi-Wan blinked. “Huh?” 

Myles sighed through his nose loudly. “Jango earned his _jaig_ eyes after he sacrificed himself to allow us to escape the Battle of Galidraan. They are high marks of honor bestowed by clan leaders, but since he is his own leader, Shae and I awarded them to him, even though we were unsure of his fate. Once he was freed, we alerted him of the honor but he refused them in the same transmission that it was announced in.” 

“I won’t wear them. Can we get moving to the debriefing?” Jango grumbled. 

“I don’t see _why_ ,” Obi-Wan countered. All eyes were on him, most pairs were interested and one pair was annoyed. “You’re a remarkable warrior. If they think your actions should be honored, you should accept it.” 

Jango’s lips became a thin line and he looked angry. Before he could explode, Myles chuckled, displaying a positive emotion for the first time since Obi-Wan had met him. “Your _cyar’ika_ isn’t afraid to tell you, huh? You should listen to him, _'Alor_ .” He jerked his head to the side. “But we _should_ go. To the bridge.” 

Myles led the way to the bridge. They passed several other Mandalorians on the way. Some were helmeted and some weren’t, but they all stared as the party walked past. Those with exposed faces had wide eyes and mouths that were partially cracked open in shock. Those with their helmets on had straight shoulders and their T-shaped visors were pointed directly at the party. Some gave a type of salute that didn’t seem taught but were personal shows of respect for their _Mand’alor_. 

Jango’s entire frame was so tense it looked like he would be able to shatter under the right amount of pressure. Obi-Wan pressed himself into the man’s side. Jango wrapped an arm around the younger man’s shoulders and relaxed a bit. 

“You know, they’re not only glad to see their _Mand’alor_ again,” Shae rumbled from her position near the middle of the group (or at least in front of Jango and Obi-Wan since they were bringing up the rear. Silas and Myles were at the front). “They also seem to be fawning over someone’s mate.” 

“Oh, I know!” Osia exclaimed mockingly. She clapped her hands together (a bit of an awkward motion with her _buy’ce_ tucked into the crook of an arm) and threw a look over her shoulder. “Jango Fett, larger-than-life figure, got tamed by his new _riduur_. They’re in awe over the abilities of Dral. Who wouldn’t be? He’ll be helping Jango lead in the future!” 

“You should stop teasing him before you’re given recruit duties for two weeks,” Myles warned from ahead. 

The two advisors chuckled to themselves but thankfully left the two men alone. 

Helping Jango lead? That was news. And they’re already referring to Obi-Wan as his spouse? Jumping the gun a bit… 

They reached the bridge eventually. There was a large holographic projecting table in the center of the room. There were a few seats in front of the large console at the end of the room near the windshield. It looked optional to sit down to pilot the transport. It also looked like the ship was only meant for transporting. The bridge was fairly small and functions were crowded together on the console so a skeleton crew—or perhaps a very focused individual—could run it. 

Two Mandalorians were standing at the holotable with their helmets resting on the edge table. The taller one (probably the tallest among them, excluding Shae), in all black _beskar_ , was paler than any of the Mandalorians Obi-Wan has seen so far. His face was oblong, all of his facial details set in stone. His grey eyes were a bit lighter than his grey hair. A frown seemed engraved on his face. And though Obi-Wan was trying to stop himself from peaking into the Force at everyone, this man drew him in because he left very little of an imprint. 

The man next to him, stockier and much shorter (he was even a bit shorter than Jango and Obi-Wan), was in sand-gold _beskar_ with a pale blue flight suit beneath. He had the tan skin of most Mandalorians (though maybe a bit lighter than the average Mandalorian). His face was a bit of a long square, his features softer than the man next to him. His brown hair looked like it was beginning to fade to grey. His eyes, which were a bit hard to see since he was squinting, looked blue. 

Both men looked up when the group came into the room. The man in black scowled as his eyes immediately picked out Obi-Wan. The shorter man gave a partial smirk directed at no one in particular. 

Myles sighed as he settled next to the Mandalorian in the sand-gold armor with Silas on his other side. Shae stood next to the Mandalorian in black armor, keeping an odd distance between them, and Osia stood on her other side. Jango and Obi-Wan stood on the opposite side of the table alone. Odd, but it probably had something to do with Jango being _Mand’alor_. But as they all settled in, all helmets were placed on the edge of the table. 

Myles began to introduce them. “Dral, these two are Kal Skirata,” the man in the sand-gold _beskar_ gave a little, half-hearted salute with his hand before resuming a stance with his hands behind his back, “and Walon Vau.” The man in the black _beskar’gam_ seemed to only scowl harder. “Both he/him. Kal and Walon, this is Dral Khor. He is Jango’s hunting partner and _cyar’ika_.” 

“I was supposed to be an advisor but then Jango went and got himself sold into slavery,” Kal added. Jango adopted a similar stance as Kal, but rather uncomfortably. 

“How did you find him?” Walon asked, head nodding toward Obi-Wan. His voice was as emotionless as his face. It was rough, like Kal’s, but deeper and making him appear a bit more ominous. 

“Roz. She handed him off to me,” Jango answered. 

Obi-Wan watched Walon’s lip curl. He braced himself for the coming words. “Roz? Your pretend _buir_ and _Mando_ faker?” 

“She’s _my_ family, you don’t have to accept her as part of the whole _Mando’ade_ if you’re going to be a _sheb_ about it,” Jango returned with heat. 

“Will Dral follow the same fate?” Walon sneered. “He doesn’t yet wear _beskar_ , he’s not truly _Mando_ yet. Does he understand _Mando’a_? You’ve been lacking in leadership abilities for many years, Fett, you showing up with a plus-one doesn’t look good.” 

“You only joined because you didn’t want to spend a life in exile, you shouldn’t be speaking! Dral has time to fulfill the tenets,” Silas snapped in defense. “Look at Osia. She became _Mando_ in a short time and was chosen by Myles and Shae, not Jango, to become an advisor!” 

“Her technological skills are the only reason she was chosen. Without them, she’d be any _Mando_. However, she lacks the same importance as a _Mand’alor_. Recovering from slavery or just faking it, we didn’t deserve to be abandoned for all those years because our own _Mand’alor_ was too afraid to face us and acknowledge that mistakes were made!” 

Everyone was getting ready for a fight—Walon was _rearing_ for a fight. There was a tear in the solidarity between the True Mandalorians, Obi-Wan understood. Jango’s advisors had shown harmony amongst each other because they _had_ to get along to lead the True Mandalorians in Jango’s absence but the unity they showed didn’t pass on to everyone. Walon was an outlier. Kal was a bit of an unknown but his placid face spoke of his distaste for the conversation. How many of the Mandalorians did they pass on the way to the bridge share Walon’s sentiments? 

“And should I mention Rozatta’s had years to accept the _Resol’nare_ as she housed and provided Jango with resources so he never had to return? Our _'Alor_ abandoned his post and left us all to fend for ourselves!” Walon pointed an accusatory finger in Myles’ direction. “Fett’s head advisor covered him for years!” 

“Jango needed time after—” 

“Stop defending him!” 

Everyone was quiet after Walon’s final outburst. He and Silas were staring each other down until he turned his dark eyes away from the younger man to Obi-Wan. “You’re just another distraction. You’ll tear him away again. We will be without our _'Alor_ _again_. The _Vube Mando’ade_ and _Kyr’tsad_ will move on each other and then us.” He paused, a dark expression overtaking his face. “ _Kaysh jarjap’u taylir gar jorcu gar jarsida kaysh buhr at ca_.” 

“ _Sh_ _abuir_!” 

The dam burst. Silas launched himself over the corner of the table toward Walon. The man in black _beskar_ was ready and had his arm lifted to protect himself using his vambrace. Obi-Wan’s face was turning red from Vau’s words and he found himself rooted in place. He saw a yellow-tan tail poke up under the table. He started pulling his blasters out to shoot at the vermin but Jango finally unfroze to put his hands on Obi-Wan’s wrists to stop him. 

The vermin was a strill. It sprung onto the table from below. Shae and Osia took several steps back from the table. Kal and Myles were in the middle of the Walon-Silas mess. The creature spared Shae and Osia a glance before it turned around and charged toward the mess of _beskar_ to join the chaos. 

“Control your _striil_!” Kal hollered. The strill seemed to be going right for the older man but it was hard to tell. It was also hard to tell if the strill was using teeth and/or its tongue in the fray. 

“ _Gev_!” Jango finally barked. 

It took a moment—one last punch (out of very few) was thrown—before Walon and Silas let themselves be separated. Walon reached around quickly, wrapping his arms around his strill and dragging it off the table. They were both breathing heavily and only staring at Jango (that’s ignoring the last dirty glare Walon threw at Silas). 

“I know what I did was wrong but you don’t take that out on Dral or each other. And Silas, stop defending me,” Jango growled. Silas looked briefly disheartened. Walon was glaring daggers but stayed silent. “I’m back now. I accept I made mistakes. I will prove my worth later. Now we need to get on with the debriefing.” 

Myles slowly reached forward to activate the holotable. An image of a transport ship came up. “The consensus is that we’ll take several smaller ships to board, probably smaller teams. The ships will board on opposite sides of the ship and meet in the middle. One group will take the bridge and the other will work towards the brig. Of course, there is the matter of disabling the ship in a quick manner so we can actually board before it re-enters hyperspace. Any input of yours will be taken into consideration, _'Alor_ , but the plan has mostly been established.” 

“ _Jaster’s Legacy_ might be able to disable the ship,” Jango said without pause. 

“She may, but you are required onboard to lead,” Kal clarified smoothly. 

Myles nodded. “We have a few ships volunteering to be distractions so we can board and reach the bridge before it launches into hyperspace. If we get the right ship, it might be able to overload shields so all the energy won’t be able to go towards hyperspeed if they want to stay alive. Or we might get that right ship that can completely disable the transport… but _Jaster’s Legacy_ won’t be that ship, even if she _can_ handle it.” 

“She can, _and_ if she disables the entire ship, then we can board right after.” Jango crossed his arms. He wanted to fly but Obi-Wan had a feeling Myles would win this one… 

“No, that’s not enough time for you to board. You disable the ship, everyone is alerted. They’ll either set up a trap and/or a blockade at the entrance you would use, or they would all come to the point where the other team boards,” Myles explained. 

“A continuous attack might be the best way to keep the ship in place,” Osia sighed. “ _None_ of our ships or the volunteered ships have what it takes to keep a transport of that size grounded long enough. Yes, even _Jaster’s Legacy_ would struggle to disable the transport. Attack the transport until it is disabled and then they have no choice but to fight back. That’s our best bet.” 

“Shae?” Jango asked. 

The Togorian shrugged her broad shoulders. “Space battles aren’t my _kot_. I stand by Osia’s approach.” 

“So how is it decided who else boards and which team will do what?” 

“It would be up to you. If Osia is part of the team that goes to the bridge, she can remote release all the prisoners there, but she can do the same in the brig. It will be a harder fight to the bridge,” Myles notified. Then, uncomfortably, he added, “If you wish to prove yourself, you should lead your team to the bridge, _'Alor_ …” 

Jango looked around the table for more input. Shae nodded and Osia agreed after seeing the Togorian nod. Walon lifted his chin defiantly and Kal gave a minute nod. Myles tipped his head in a refusal to answer and Silas hugged himself awkwardly. So only three answers, but Jango had probably already decided. 

“Then I will lead my team to the bridge. Have teams been fully fleshed out?” 

Myles shook his head. “Everyone is dismissed.” 

A rumble of agreement and relief rolled through the room as everyone gathered their things and left. Once everyone was gone, Myles moved to the center of the table to be opposite of Jango. 

They began to discuss teams, but there wasn’t a lot to discuss since Myles and the others already worked through the finer details. Jango would be leading the first team consisting of him, Obi-Wan, Silas, and Myles. The second team would be made up of Shae, Osia, Walon, and Kal. They were small teams. It posed a problem but an advantage at the same time. Smaller teams would be able to move quickly, and they were safer than the average merc with their _beskar_ (except for Obi-Wan), but they lacked the firepower to get them through the ship quickly. The negatives canceled the positives. Additionally, the ships keeping the transport from jumping could cause damage that could make their jobs even harder. And if they don’t work fast enough, those ships risk getting shot down if the mercenaries on board are organized enough to fight back and be hindrances. 

But everything was decided. After a visit to the armory and a hardy meal, Myles would input coordinates and the _Furnace_ would be on its way. 

Myles held up a hand before they left. “One more thing, Jango.” Jango’s shoulders fell. “Have you come across Montross at all? Has Roz?” 

Jango shook his head. “Nothing.” 

Disappointment shone on Myles’ face. “I see… Unfortunate but good all the same. He won’t hide forever.” Jango’s jaw tensed. “Go, _'Alor_. I won’t hold you up.” 

Jango directed Obi-Wan to start leaving. His advisor stayed by the table, staring at the hologram of the transport, so he asked over his shoulder, “Will you be coming to eat?” 

For a brief moment, Obi-Wan saw beneath the surface of the man who was inadvertently leading the True Mandalorians in Jango’s absence. He was tired from the stress and angry from the outburst between Walon and Silas that probably wasn’t the first he had to deal with. He didn’t want to be _Mand’alor_ yet he had been acting like it for years. Obi-Wan reached out in the Force to feel for anything else… and yes. Myles was grateful and relieved the burden was lifted from his shoulders but now he didn’t know what to do with himself. He accepted that he was still holding the Mandalorians together but he hoped it wouldn’t have to be for long. Jango would become the glue once more, he had to for the survival of their people. 

Myles blinked, expression blank as he turned toward the other two. “If I must…” 

Jango grinned. “You must.” 

Myles rolled his eyes and turned back towards the holotable. “Go visit the armory. I’ll save two seats if I arrive before you.” 

“Sounds like a deal.” 

It was a bit of a long walk to the armory but Obi-Wan didn’t have any complaints. He was able to see more of the ship this way. They also came across fewer Mandalorians than what they did on their way to the bridge. Jango said the cause of seeing fewer Mandalorians was because it was time to eat. Whether the Mandalorians were eating on their own ships or in the mess hall of the _Furnace_ , most of them would be eating or getting ready to eat at this point. 

On the way, Jango also explained the purpose of the _Furnace_ and other True Mandalorian transport ships like it. The True Mandalorians were the ones who stuck closest to the ways of their nomadic ancestors (the only thing Death Watch held onto from their ancestors was the wanton to become galactic crusaders once again but they had yet to attempt to spread their roots from the Mandalore sector). Transport ships like the _Furnace_ were used to keep groups of Mandalorians close when they want to work together. Some lived on board the transports for long amounts of times (for example, Myles. He was pretty much the prime owner of _Furnace_ due to how long he has lived onboard and how many jobs he has brought it on). Then the True Mandalorians who preferred to work alone had their own ships or the True Mandalorians who don’t want to be involved in the life of mercenaries can live in the Mandalore sector or onboard the transport ships, as long as if they chipped in somehow or at least armed themselves should the _Mand’alor_ call upon them. 

It’s efficient, Obi-Wan voiced. Jango nodded in agreement. 

Also on the way, Obi-Wan had to ask. “Who’s Montross?” 

Jango sighed, a miserable sound that was perfectly mirrored in the Force. “Man responsible for Jaster’s death. He tried to take over the _Haat Mando’ade_. I banished him, and we have been in a back-and-forth hunt for each other ever since.” 

Obi-Wan stopped mid-step in the hall they were walking down. A back-and-forth hunt? Almost a year of knowing Jango, and apparently Jango has been getting actively hunted yet hunting his hunter in return? “You never thought to tell me this?” And Jango gets on his case for being reckless? They clearly have a lot of things to work out before their relationship keeps progressing… 

Jango stopped a few steps ahead of him, on-edge annoyance engraved into his features. “We’ve been keeping an eye on the situation. The less you knew, the better. And look, we have been staying away from each other, so things are just fine.” 

Obi-Wan squinted at him harshly but began to walk again. 

The armory was stocked with a _lot_ of weapons, varying in style, type, and purpose. Obi-Wan and Jango had their own effective stock, they didn’t have a reason to be selecting something from the _Furnace’s_ armory. The prototype rifle was more valuable and powerful than some of the ones available through the True Mandalorians. 

Jango walked through the armory with ease. Obi-Wan followed him until they came to a workbench in the back of the room. A blaster pistol was in pieces in the center of the table like it was getting cleaned or getting parts replaced. A silky purple fabric covered an item next to it. Jango targeted that purple fabric, putting his _buy’ce_ on the table before picking the item up so carefully as if it might break. He slowly turned to Obi-Wan and held the item out. 

Obi-Wan looked at the covered item and raised an eyebrow cautiously. Jango didn’t often treat items like they might break in his hands like this. 

“Uncover it,” Jango urged softly. 

Obi-Wan faced Jango and took a step forward. He carefully pulled the edges of the purple material away. An occupied black, sword-length sheath was waiting beneath. Obi-Wan located the hilt of the weapon and pulled. 

“A _beskad_ , a melee weapon for a _Mando_.” Jango sounded like he wasn’t even there, as quiet and out-of-it he sounded. 

Obi-Wan held the weapon up to examine it. The hilt was wrapped in black leather for better grip but it also matched the weapon’s sheath and Obi-Wan’s other equipment. It was shaped pretty much just like his falchion but with a hardier and jagged design. The single-edged blade was the shade of silver that revealed its _beskar_ material. It was thinner near the hilt before slanting away to become wider before coming to a sharp point. It was heavier than his falchion but the cut-out fuller going up a portion of the blade made it lighter than what it looks. 

“Most _beskade_ are designed to be weightier but yours is a tad lighter than others since you prefer maneuverability over raw power. The fuller is extended, makes the weapon lighter, and offers more chances to snag your opponents’ weapons in it,” Jango explained. He watched Obi-Wan, captivated. “But it’ll deliver heavier blows than what your current sword can perform.” 

Obi-Wan tipped the _beskad_ in different directions to see how it felt. It was definitely heavier than what he was used to but it was still a comfortable weight. It felt more worthy and deadly. “What’s the point of getting me one?” 

“A weapon for a _Mando_ , as I said. You may not be one of us yet but you should be equipped like one. The upcoming job is a way you can prove yourself to the _Mando’ade_ , and making sure you are equipped with the proper weapons can help you.” Jango held the sheath in place as Obi-Wan put the _beskad_ back in it. He released it so Obi-Wan could take it to attach to his belt as best he could (it would sit and attach just fine, but Obi-Wan had a lot going on in that area with his WESTAR-20 blaster pistols on each hip and now a sword dangling from each hip, also). “This is for you to keep.” 

Obi-Wan has to prove himself to the Mandalorians like Walon who may not accept him yet. Dressing him up and equipping him like a Mandalorian wasn’t enough. Even if they were to get him _beskar’gam_ before the job—and if he would accept whatever necessary to become a True Mandalorian—there would still be Mandalorians like Walon. Maybe that just came with the title of mate to the _Mand’alor_. Silas and Jango’s advisors don’t seem to have an issue with him, though… 

Jango folded the purple material up and set it down next to the blaster. He collected his _buy’ce_ and motioned toward the other end of the room, to the exit. “Now let’s go eat with the others.” 

He led the way to the mess hall. It was somewhere between the bridge and armory (Obi-Wan recognized that the armory was closer to the hangar), but off-course enough from the bridge they had to take a different path to get there in a timely manner. 

When they arrived, a few Mandalorians near the exit (some were eating, others were either also arriving or leaving) readily greeted them. It was loud, most of all the activity was coming from the several tables that were pressed together to make one long table. There were a few excluded tables occupied by smaller groups. Were those smaller groups Mandalorians Obi-Wan had to prove himself to or were they separated from the main group because they just wanted to eat with fewer people or eat with their families? Walon wasn’t sitting with any of them (from what Obi-Wan could see, he wasn’t given a lot of time to gawk at everyone). 

Jango dragged him along toward the opposite end of the table. Myles was sitting in the seat perpendicular to the head of the table. He made a motion to the head of the table with his utensil before his attention was drawn away by someone shouting his name. Myles seemed more relaxed here than any of the previous times Obi-Wan has seen him… 

Jango took the seat at the head of the table and Obi-Wan hesitantly took the seat across from Myles. Shae was sitting next to him and Osia was sitting next to Myles. So Myles either had to save their seats or everyone knew not to sit at the head of the table because that’s where their _‘Alor_ , his mate, and his second in command were to sit. 

“I thought you weren’t going to show up!” Osia exclaimed suddenly. She slammed the mug she was drinking from onto the table. “Myles insisted you were coming but I said you probably took Dral to the captain’s quarters to have a good time!” 

Obi-Wan and Jango each made a face. Shae grumbled loudly, “How many times do we have to tell you that the captain’s quarters is Myles’ room?” 

Myles was neatly stabbing his food with his fork. “They are, but I don’t mind giving them up if Jango wishes to bunk in them while on the _Furnace_.” He was quiet, reserved. Was it from the topic, because he was tired, or from something else? 

“No, we’re fine on _Jaster’s Legacy_ or any couple’s room on the _Furnace_ ,” Jango murmured. _Couple's._ Because they were that. Was it also a way for Jango to flaunt—stake claim? Jango shifted in his seat. “I’m only the captain of _Jaster’s Legacy_ , and there isn’t even a captain’s quarters on that ship.” 

“All the more reason to take Myles’ room while you can!” Osia pursued. 

“It’s fine,” Jango returned sharply. 

Osia wrinkled her nose and picked her mug back up to slurp down more of her drink. Alcohol, most likely. She was acting more boisterous than when Obi-Wan was first in her company. 

Obi-Wan was getting ready to ask where to get the food but then two Mandalorians came by to drop off full plates of food and a mug for each plate in front of Obi-Wan and Jango. He flinched into the back of his seat, surprised by the timing and abruptness. He didn’t even get the chance to view either of their faces before they were out of sight. 

“ _Gi_ dumpling soup with some crackers and _varos_ tarts,” Myles provided as Osia began to shout in _Mando’a_ at someone on her other side. Shae was beginning to bristle (literally, the pale orange fur on her neck beginning to look fluffier) beside Obi-Wan. 

“They normally this rambunctious?” he asked. He picked up his spoon and began to stir his soup. 

Jango was glaring ahead, Osia’s outburst seemingly pausing his eating (Obi-Wan didn’t catch what she said so he had to guess her words were borderline offensive, a jab at Jango, or simply an annoyance. Other Mandalorians further down the table cheered in response). Myles looked between them and decided to answer. “No, not normally. They are usually more subdued, but today is a celebration. Our _Mand’alor_ has returned; and returned with a mate, no less. It’s _shereshoy_ , we are a whole _manda_ again.” 

Obi-Wan dipped his head and decided to start eating. This was bigger than what he was ready to take in, come to think of it. The Mandalorians definitely looked up to Jango and now Obi-Wan has been raised to a pedestal of similar height. Walon was right to be wary of him. He won’t flee out of fear but he wasn’t ready for the responsibility that comes with leading a group as big as the True Mandalorians, despite the responsibility being less than what Jango himself will face. 

Obi-Wan did his best to enjoy the meal. The soup had a bit of spice to it but it wasn’t overbearing. The crackers were probably there to help tone down the taste or make sure he didn’t walk away from the table with a semi-empty stomach. He still had soup left when he finished the crackers but didn’t complain because the soup didn’t need any toning down (if that’s one of the reasons why they gave them to him. If it was, then they seriously underestimated his taste buds). The tarts were good, probably not a traditional Mandalorian meal—due to how messy they could get—but they were pleasant. Additionally, his mug had been filled with _ne’tra gal_. He tried to go easy on his drink but there was someone always nearby with a jug for refills. He didn’t want to turn himself into a blubbering mess around Jango’s advisors (or any of the other Mandalorians, for that matter) but the Mandalorians providing refills made it a bit difficult. 

Things had calmed down somewhat by the time they were done eating but that was partially because the drunker Mandalorians were jumbled together near the opposite end of the table. The Mandalorians at the individual tables were either still in their individual groups, they left, joined the drunk group, or joined the buzzed and sober Mandalorians sitting in the middle of the long table. Jango, Obi-Wan, Myles, and Shae were still at the other end of the table, having been given a larger berth now that food was no longer in the picture. Myles was filling Jango in on some things he had missed. Important interactions were explained, including odd transmissions from the Death Watch that weren’t meant for them but had somehow reached them. Shae also gave some input but she didn’t have much to say. She did a lot of physical work with other Mandalorians and said everyone was capable. Jango retold some of their jobs and by the end of it, Shae sounded like she was purring and she gave Obi-Wan an approving nudge to his shoulder. 

Their refills were steady and over time their postures became less rigid. Jango leaned forward onto his elbows more, Myles looked like he was actually relaxing, Shae started taking up more space, and Obi-Wan slumped in his chair more. 

“You _can_ take my room, if you want,” Myles sighed. He was watching the group at the other end of the table. They were slowly dispersing. According to Shae, it wasn’t their (the advisors') responsibility to make sure any of the Mandalorians made it back to their quarters. Myles and Shae were still hanging around because they were chatting with Jango before he retired for the cycle. If they were to be responsible for anyone who is drunk, it would be Jango and Obi-Wan partly out of friendship but also partly out of duty. 

Myles slowly turned to look at Jango. “All I ask is that you leave my things alone and don’t make a mess.” 

“Unnecessary,” Jango mumbled. Obi-Wan found himself blinking languidly as he awaited an answer. He had consumed more alcohol than he intended to. “Is the starboard side lounge still a thing?” 

Myles squinted in thought briefly before slowly nodding. “It is, but I can’t guarantee that no drunks will be there. But I doubt any would have actually _made_ it there… They will leave if you are requesting to sleep there.” 

“It would only be to sleep for one cycle. We’d clear out by the morning of tomorrow’s cycle. _Then_ a room with a double bed would be appreciated,” Jango decided. 

Obi-Wan caught Myles looking at him for input. He blinked at Jango’s second in command and gave a faint half-hearted shrug. One corner of the man’s lips quirked before he returned his attention to Jango. 

“That can and will be done, _‘Alor_ ,” he hummed. “Are you wanting to retire now?” 

Jango took a few swallows from his mug before answering. He extended his arm and tilted the mug in his direction to see how much was left. “Soon. We can bring our own bedding. I just want the lounge cleared by the time we get there and I want to be left alone until we leave.” 

Myles pulled a datapad out from under the table to start tapping and typing things quickly. His datapad made a few beeps. The man stared at it for a few seconds before he deactivated it and returned it to where he grabbed it from. “Anyone in there should be leaving and you will be undisturbed until tomorrow when you leave the room—unless certain circumstances require your attention.” 

Jango nodded. To Obi-Wan, he asked, “Are you ready to turn in?” 

It was earlier than what they were used to but it seemed the True Mandalorians were operating on a different schedule or preferred to sleep and wake early—even earlier than the times Jango and Obi-Wan sleep and wake at. But Obi-Wan didn’t have any real complaints. 

“I suppose,” he sighed with a stretch. 

They took a trip back to _Jaster’s Legacy_ for their nightly hygiene, to change into their sleep clothes, and to grab a few blankets and pillows. Obi-Wan hid his vest in the dresser in his room on the ship. Once they were set, Jango led the way to the starboard lounge. 

The lounge was a long room; with one window about the size of the length of the room on the wall parallel to the entrance; the ceiling was high; soft, dim lights lit the room; the floor was the same as the rest of the station but different types of rugs were everywhere. A boxy C-shaped leather couch was in the center of the room, facing the large window, and on both sides of it were different types of game tables. At one end of the room was a bar with a wall of many alcoholic beverages behind it. At the other end was a wall of books and two little plush chairs to read in. There were refreshers out in the hall if they needed them. 

They were pushing the corresponding footrests into the hole of the C to make a proper bed when a thought popped into Obi-Wan’s head. He let Jango continue moving the furniture as he went to the bar to poke around the drinks. Casually, he asked over his shoulder, “So why _don’t_ you put on your _jaig_ eyes? Or however you display them… Myles made it sound like fewer Mandalorians died than you make it out to be.” 

Jango sighed loudly, Obi-Wan didn’t have any trouble hearing that as he found some small bottles containing a transparent, slightly pink liquid. It had a strong scent, too, almost unbearable with how spicy it'll prove to be. 

“Because I don’t want to wear a sigil that’ll remind me of the Battle of Galidraan and the following events every time I see it.” Obi-Wan took a sip out of one bottle and cringed. _Tihaar_ , but not the same type found on _Jaster’s Legacy_. He turned around to lean against the bar. Jango was spreading their blankets out and putting their pillows in place as he continued, “More _Mandos_ made it out than what I relay but I don’t want to celebrate that event. I was bested by the _Kyr’tsad_ and _jetiise_ that day. Jaster’s successor, the talk of _Manda’yaim_ , was taken down by some sorcerors and terrorists.” He stood straight, their bedding now set up, eyes locking with Obi-Wan’s, and began to approach him slowly. “Myles had apparently just escaped, critically wounded, when I was finally taken down. I thought he was dead. Then, when we met back up, he was there and praising me and they were saying I earned my _jai’galaar’la sur’haii’se_ for basically living in despair after witnessing _jetiise_ try to slaughter me and my people, letting my rage sacrifice me so everyone else could escape, thinking my old friend was dead for who knows how long, and being enslaved.” 

Jango took the bottle from Obi-Wan to try. He drank more of it but gave it a weird look after he pulled it away from his lips. He didn’t favor it, it seems. He put the cap on it and set it on the bar. 

“So change the meaning of what your _jaig_ eyes represent. You were enslaved, but you survived, and next time you come across anyone from Death Watch, they’ll see your _jaig_ eyes before they die. They’ll know that Jango Fett, leader of the True Mandalorians, successor to _Mand’alor_ Jaster, got himself out of slavery and is back for vengeance,” Obi-Wan suggested, placing a cautious hand on the man’s arm. Jango was grinning at him with heat, a predatory glint in his eyes. 

The man brought his hands up to frame Obi-Wan’s face and leaned in to kiss him. The kiss was chaste yet sluggish. He was holding back yet sending a message at the same time… 

He pulled away first and Obi-Wan found himself staring into hungry, adoring, brown eyes. He got this way during night cycles when he was getting ready to work both of them up only to deny relief for each. It was agonizing but a different kind of relief all the same. 

“You’re thinking like a _Mando_. Even the New Mandalorians would understand the message of them.” 

“Does that mean you will wear them?” 

Jango was ever so slowly pushing, lifting Obi-Wan upward and against the bar with his body. Obi-Wan was scrambling for purchase until Jango grabbed one of his thighs and squeezed. “Waist,” he ordered. 

Obi-Wan tipped his head to the side like he was debating not doing that before he complied. It took no effort to get his legs hooked around Jango’s waist. He draped his arms over Jango’s shoulders but otherwise kept himself upright using his core strength (because Jango’s hands sneaking underneath his shirt weren’t helping at all). 

“I need to think about it,” Jango answered. 

Jango carried him to their makeshift bed and laid him down on his back carefully (thankfully covered by blankets, leather is cold in general but it is so much worse in space)—Obi-Wan loosening his legs but keeping them on either side of Jango to keep him caged in—before he hurriedly tugged off his own shirt. Then his hands were back under Obi-Wan’s shirt, working their way up and encouraging the younger man to raise his arms so his shirt could also be removed. Obi-Wan allowed it to happen… He hated when his skin was on display. He was beginning to grow more comfortable around Jango but his back was probably the largest expanse of skin that he wanted the last thing to be seen. 

Lips started at Obi-Wan’s neck, slowly working their way down his chest. Sometimes teeth scraped against his skin gently and his breath hitched in his throat. Jango’s stubble also made an appearance quite a bit. It was getting Obi-Wan worked up and chasing away his worried thoughts. He wouldn’t admit it but Jango was able to tell. He knew what he could do to Obi-Wan, despite being in a relationship for a full standard month. And as he worked his way down Obi-Wan’s body, he would face his effects. 

Hands slipped under the elastic of Obi-Wan’s sleeping pants and smalls in one effortless motion. His lips stopped just at the waistband and Obi-Wan’s hands found Jango’s head to grip softly in an attempt to ground himself. His control was close to spinning out of control. And his control on what—whether that be the Force or his regular mental state—remained to be seen, and it would be best if they didn’t find out. 

Jango’s hands began to move as if they were going to cup Obi-Wan’s ass but they stopped, thumbs beginning to rub soothing circles into Obi-Wan’s hip bones. 

Jango was frowning in frustration before he finally dropped his head to rest it on Obi-Wan’s stomach. “No, not yet; not tonight,” he decided a bit breathlessly. 

Obi-Wan made a strained, disappointed noise of protest and dropped his head onto the couch as he debated releasing his frustration into the Force. He wanted to demand why, get an explanation as to why Jango was denying this, but he has been following Jango’s lead all these times. If Jango wasn’t ready for this then there was no way Obi-Wan would be. 

Obi-Wan straightened his legs, still keeping them caging Jango in. Jango removed his hands from beneath Obi-Wan’s clothes and fully laid himself down on top of the younger man, using the younger man’s milky pale chest as a pillow. Obi-Wan, trying to calm himself, kept his hands on Jango’s head to thread through the short hair there. 

“So why the lounge?” he asked. 

“I haven’t been on the _Furnace_ much. I was in my younger years the last time I was aboard. Myles’ _buir_ was actually the captain of it. This lounge was Jaster’s favorite room. When we were on board, he liked to relax here with the other _Mandos_ and he would take me here to calm me down if I was too fired up,” Jango explained. 

“So you bring me here to have sex?” 

Jango scoffed as if he hadn’t just started to fondle Obi-Wan’s asscheeks before deciding that he wasn’t going to go any further tonight. “I _said_ not tonight, so _no_. I wanted to bring you here so you would’ve gotten to experience this room, too. It’s important to me. Memories—good ones—are tied here. If we _would’ve_ , then, well, I _hope_ it would’ve been another good memory to add to the list.” 

Obi-Wan gathered a tuft of hair to pull teasingly. Jango retaliated by reaching up to pinch one of the younger man’s nipples. 

Rancid breath woke Obi-Wan. He heard the panting before his nose picked up on the scent but he didn’t pay it much mind with his sleep-addled brain. Then once he smelled it, his eyes snapped open and he found himself staring at the strill responsible for adding to the chaos of the meeting during the previous cycle. His brain was still half asleep, resulting in him reaching under his pillow for a blaster not there. The action roused Jango from his sleep. He let out a grunt and looked to the creature, reaching up to stop Obi-Wan from completing the motion even though he probably also knew there was no weapon stashed under the pillow. They both were confused with sleep but at least it showed they were capable of operating on autopilot. 

Once they were both frozen and looking at each other with confusion, someone approached the back of the couch. _Mand’alor_ and ex-Jedi turned their heads. Walon… He stared down at them with cold eyes. 

“What are you doing here? We were supposed to be left alone,” Jango growled. He started to push himself up. Obi-Wan saw Walon’s eyes widen as he prepared himself to see nudity but his eyes noticeably calmed when he saw that the men’s lower halves were clothed. 

“Bypassed the door. Not hard. All Myles did was put a digital ‘No Entry’ sign on it and everyone else has been respectful because word has spread the _Mand’alor_ has brought his _cyar’ika_ here.” Walon made a quiet whistle and the strill made a little noise before jumping away from the couch and went around to presumably join its master. “Now come on, you have respect to earn, Jango, and we only have a week in hyperspace to relearn and learn how we all move during battle.” 

“Is Mird coming on the mission?” Jango asked when Walon turned and was headed for the exit. It sounded like a jab. 

Walon scoffed. “ _Mird’ika_ is safest on the _Furnace_ and will be staying here, _sheb_.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Some links below! Everything underlined, except for "Translations", is a hyperlink and you should totally click it (except the chapter links, those will just bring you to those chapters. But you could click them, maybe you want a refresher! Appropriate fanart _has_ been added to their corresponding chapters...)! 
> 
> [bureau-pinery](https://bureau-pinery.tumblr.com/) (this will lead you to her Tumblr, she goes by the same name here ❤) made fanart! First up we have [Jango in a flower crown](https://bureau-pinery.tumblr.com/post/627007058174230528/jango-with-flower-crown-from-this-fic-shy-bounty), from [chapter 10](https://archiveofourown.org/works/23848432/chapters/63117787)! Second, we have [Jango trying to comfort Obi-Wan](https://bureau-pinery.tumblr.com/post/641855332244684800/scene-from-in-the-hearts-of-men-tenn), from [chapter 27](https://archiveofourown.org/works/23848432/chapters/70864923)! 
> 
> Here is [Shae](https://64.media.tumblr.com/8e88c3aaad4dbe9f200bf2c04f7d92f0/6f9e7111615717aa-7d/s1280x1920/f0f8a2aa9443d40e05fc07656259b4d5aa0ac1ca.png)... 
> 
> Also, [a poll](https://forms.gle/sSXt28sinqFQAxVq8). This is me thinking ahead for the fic's future. It is explained further in the poll. **Be aware** : you'll need to sign in with a google account, **but none of your information will be recorded**. The only information that I will be able to see are your answers (trust me, I have tested it with my friend. The last things I need are your emails c:). 
> 
> Translations:  
> cyare - beloved, loved  
> adiik - child aged 3 to 13  
> jai’galaar’la sur’haii’se (jaig eyes) - shriek-hawk eyes, a mark of honor awarded for particular acts of bravery  
> cyar’ika - darling, sweetheart  
> riduur - partner, spouse  
> buir - parent  
> sheb - ass  
> Resol’nare - Six Actions, the tenets of Mando life  
> Vube Mando’ade - New Mandalorians  
> Kyr’tsad - Death Watch  
> 'ika - diminutive suffix written as 'ika (also added to a name as a very familiar or childhood form)  
> "Kaysh jarjap’u taylir gar jorcu gar jarsida kaysh buhr at ca" - "He probably keeps you around because you keep his cock warm at night"  
> shabuir - extreme insult; jerk, but much stronger  
> striil - still, a highly intelligent six-legged hunting carnivore native to Mandalore  
> gev - stop it  
> kot - strength  
> Haat Mando'ade - True Mandalorians  
> gi [dumpling soup] - a Mandalorian-made soup, the gi being the type of fish used  
> varos - a species of fruit native to the planet Mandalore  
> shereshoy - lust for life and much more  
> manda - the state of being Mandalorian in mind, body and spirit  
> ne’tra gal - black ale; a sticky ale with a sweet taste  
> tihaar - colorless alcohol spirit with high alcohol content and strong taste that often burned the mouth and throat when ingested  
> Manda’yaim - the planet Mandalore


	29. Chapter 29

It was about a four-day trip from Outland to the Mandalore sector, and that math is based on the navigation system in _Jaster’s Legacy_ , not the _Furnace_ , which was the ship currently transporting them. Myles gave an estimate of five days. One extra day for everyone to keep training together. 

It was refreshing to spar with someone other than Jango, yet frustrating all the while due to the new challenges. Obi-Wan fought like he did when he and Jango started working together; precise and deadly, but not showing all of his skills. Fighting like he didn’t know how to would discredit him and start his reputation with the Mandalorians off badly. The main goal was to not let his Jedi-ness show (something he would say he has been doing pretty good at). 

On the first day, Obi-Wan was pitted against Jango’s ‘inner circle’. Shae was an immovable wall of muscle who had nearly given Obi-Wan a concussion after their first tussle. Not even quick, slick moves were beneficial against her because she knew how to be light on her toes. Myles and Silas fought and moved a lot like Jango (though Myles was on the more aggressive side—not an ambusher like Jango—and Silas was a hesitant fighter, acting like he was afraid to be in the rink with Obi-Wan). Osia fought and moved like she only knew the basics of fighting. Jango was hesitant to let Obi-Wan spar Skirata and Vau due to the unconventional moves they willingly used against other Mandalorians (but he let Obi-Wan nearly get his skull crushed by Shae…). Kal also fought like Jango—he was maybe a bit more patient, unwilling to be the attacker all the time—but he started fighting dirty the longer he and Obi-Wan were in the ring together. Walon fought like a mixture of Obi-Wan and the other Mandalorians but had a lot more bite behind his actions. Their first sparring match was a sight to be seen that had gathered quite an audience. 

It had been a battle involving staves, Vau’s choice. Obi-Wan had a slight advantage thanks to his lightsaber training but Walon didn’t exactly go easy on him. As previously mentioned, he had more bite behind his attacks than the other Mandalorians did. It put Obi-Wan in an awkward position of playing defense often, which is not always common when using a staff. Double-bladed lightsabers are inherently aggressive weapons (or maybe that was just from his past experience) and staves were similar to them. It meant keeping Walon on his toes and, when it showed clearly that he underestimated what his opponent was capable of and chose these weapons to be flashy, Obi-Wan took the lead of the aggressor to finish their match and win. All it took was a quick series of hitting the middle of their staves together until he hit hard enough to off-balance Vau, and then he twirled his staff around to sweep the Mandalorian’s legs out from under him. 

It didn’t take the Force to see Walon’s anger and displeasure from how their match went. 

At the end of it, they were both sweating messes. They were both in standard exercise gear found on the _Furnace_ (tank tops, sweat-wicking joggers, and a special type of boots to help keep their footing). Either one or both of them had been nicked and was bleeding at one point. Obi-Wan felt some scratches on his arms stinging from his sweat. Bruises would be appearing within several hours. Walon would be suffering some of the same. 

Once they were out of the rink and their weapons were put away, Jango was the first to greet Obi-Wan. He wrapped an arm around the younger man’s shoulders. He was practically glowing with pride. His entourage of advisors and Silas were all standing with him. Shae grinned at the two as she crossed her arms and settled into a relaxed stance. 

“We’re all surprised. Not many can put up a good of a fight against Walon,” she congratulated. 

“You did amazing,” Jango rumbled. 

“I lost against Kal,” Obi-Wan objected. 

“Skirata is known for fighting dirty when things aren’t going his way. It means you are better than what he thought by fighting fair. He also has several years over all of us. Beating Kal is more of an honorary thing; bragging rights, a coming-of-age battle that not every _Mando_ gets the chance of having. Beating Walon was more important, especially after he challenged you and Jango and attempted to embarrass you by thinking you are incompetent with staves,” Myles huffed. He also had his arms crossed but he wasn’t as relaxed as Shae. If anything, he was the exact opposite. 

Myles was the only one in his _beskar’gam_ but lacked his helmet. Everyone else wore similar exercising gear except for Jango, who was in his base layer and blue flight suit. Shae’s tank top, though, closely resembled a combat vest. 

“It means that he can’t hold you up to an unbearably high standard anymore. You’ll still have to prove yourself—to him and others—but that got easier by bruising his ego like you just did,” Myles continued. 

Now that the main matches were over (Obi-Wan versus Jango’s advisors and Silas, Kal, and Walon), everyone was dispersing to train with each other. They’ll be doing more sparring matches but in proper field attire the final day of hyperspace. Obi-Wan would be sparring fully equipped Mandalorians in their _beskar’gam_. 

Also during hyperspace and before the final day of sparring, Osia assisted Obi-Wan in repairing his armor while Jango attended to _Mand’alor_ things with Myles. She scoffed at his _kathare_ armor but at the same time was impressed to see how well it held up against a bonecrusher and other shenanigans. She helped him patch up the teeth holes with an odd mixture and melded the cracks back together, finishing it off by smoothening all the old and new sharp edges down. 

“So, where do you hail from?” 

Obi-Wan almost gave an automatic response; born on Stewjon, grew up on Coruscant. He stopped himself. “Zeffo. A secret society of swordsmen.” It’s been a long time since he’s had to explain that. 

A large grin spread on Osia’s face. “So that’s how you were able to stick it so well to Walon. He obviously didn’t expect you to be good but you blew the match out of the water.” 

They talked aimlessly while repairing and repainting Obi-Wan’s armor. Osia, it turned out, was younger than Obi-Wan and she was an ‘unconventional’ advisor. It meant that she wasn’t chosen by Jango himself, and thus some Mandalorians didn’t believe she deserved her rank. Myles was pretty much chosen by Jaster, Jango, _and_ Kal, so he was right where he belonged. Shae was along the same lines; recommended by Myles and chosen by Jango, so she had no reason to be challenged (and no one would even want to challenge her when it would result in a spar and she would be guaranteed to win). Osia was recommended by Shae and had the approval of both advisors, so she too became an advisor. At the time of her appointment, Kal was not around to be consulted, and some older Mandalorians expected Osia to have his approval since Jango also wasn’t around and she would be one of the youngest advisors yet. Myles talked their elders down and Osia was able to be an advisor but would always be eyes on her. 

“I think it’s safe to assume that’s how your life will be as Jango’s _riduur_ ,” Osia sighed offhandedly. 

Obi-Wan didn’t doubt that and grunted in agreement. It was something he should discuss with Jango. They’ve only been together for a month and things were moving quickly between them. Jango hasn’t mentioned becoming a Mandalorian lately but it was expected of Obi-Wan to take up their vows and responsibilities if he wishes to be truly accepted. Jango has yet to explain what it specifically takes to become Mandalorian. 

Then, out of nowhere, Osia said, looking at Obi-Wan with pitiful eyes, “I feel bad for you. Jango has got to be the worst _Mand’alor_ in history and you’ll have to help shoulder his burdens. Don’t be surprised when your own baggage gets put on a back burner.” 

Her words could very easily be seen as a threat. Obi-Wan felt a chill go down his spine as he thought about the Force. She wasn’t aware of it, but she was very much correct. It was why he needed to speak to Jango but Jango was too busy at the moment, and even when they did have time together Jango didn’t want to entertain the possibility that Obi-Wan is Force-sensitive. Maybe after the job, they will have time. 

There was talk of putting Obi-Wan in durasteel for the job. That meant he would have to wear it during the final day of training. He humored the idea but decided that he would rather wear his plastoid garb because it was familiar to him. It offered very little protection but the Force offered alternatives for keeping him safe. 

Most Mandalorians were surprised by Obi-Wan’s choice. Jango wasn’t, but he did seem partially displeased. Durasteel was not _beskar_ but it was more protective than a plastoid-alloy. It was even in Mandalorian design, so it would have looked like Obi-Wan was in _beskar’gam_ or something very similar. 

So maybe Obi-Wan also chose his plastoid armor just to spite Jango. The man wanted to see him in Mandalorian ware but if he wasn’t going to entertain the idea of Obi-Wan being Force-sensitive, then Obi-Wan wasn’t going to dress up like a Mandalorian for him. It was only fair. 

Much like the first day of training together, the True Mandalorians were buzzing with excitement. The day kicked off with Obi-Wan facing off against Jango’s advisors and Silas. If Kal and Walon show up on time, then he is to also fight them. But for now, it was just the advisors. He beat all of them except for Shae, who he basically toyed with the entire time because he knew he wouldn’t be able to take her down but he wanted to make it hard for her to win. 

Kal and Walon never showed up so Obi-Wan had three wins and one loss under his belt before he was getting tugged along for other rounds to participate in. He didn’t even get to say goodbye to Jango, who Myles was escorting to who-knows-where to do more _Mand’alor_ duties. 

The day was full of betting on Mandalorian-esque festivities. However, nearing the end of the cycle, someone had managed to call Jango back for a spar. 

“ _Mand’alor bal De’alor akaanir_!” someone shouted at the top of their lungs. A chorus of cheers followed. 

They were both dressed for it (Jango fully suited up in his _beskar’gam_ ), so did Jango know he had gotten called back for it? 

“Do you accept?” Jango asked when he was finally able to get close to Obi-Wan. “We won’t fight if you don’t want to.” 

Obi-Wan raised an eyebrow when a hand was offered to shake. No rules were said because they would go by their standard, familiar terms. No weapons, but fight to your heart’s content. It’s over if there’s an injury. The winner has to get their opponent to tap out, no choking them out. 

He grinned slyly and accepted Jango’s hand. The Mandalorians surrounding them parted to allow them into the rink. Strangely enough, Myles wasn’t in sight. So did Jango sneak away from his advisors? Questions were beginning to stack and there was no time to get answers to them anymore. 

Jango tried pouncing as soon as their match started, but if he thought Obi-Wan would be tired out from his day full of exercise, he was dead wrong. Obi-Wan was still quick on his feet and his mind was running smoothly from all the simulations so far. Even without the Force, it was easy to predict Jango’s moves and stay away from him. He wasn’t swinging wildly on purpose, but it sure looked a lot like it. Sometimes Jango got too close but Obi-Wan was able to step out of the way just in time. But it was for show. Obi-Wan was toying with Jango purposefully. It was partly because it is more difficult to take down Jango when he’s in full _beskar’gam_ and was afraid to get too close. Their audience was excited at first, cheering both men on, but they were obviously growing bored. 

Polearms were distributed to make things more interesting. Obi-Wan dancing around Jango was no longer entertaining. Obi-Wan had to agree, admittingly. He wasn’t getting tired, especially thanks to the Force, but he needed something else to occupy his mind instead of dodging after dodging after dodging… But when the polearms were introduced, Obi-Wan felt the semi-buried part of him come alive. The semi-buried part of him that was taken to Coruscant at the age of three and grew from there… 

Jango became more aggressive and precise and Obi-Wan had a way to increase his movements and had a way to defend himself. Even the Mandalorians seemed happy, especially after Jango attacked first and their polearms clashed, creating a _clang_ that was the loudest sound in the room. 

With the way Jango was fighting, Obi-Wan felt like he was battling the Sith Zabrak. He didn’t have the same finesse but his aggression almost matched. He swung and every time Obi-Wan blocked. It wasn’t at the speed Force users can fight, so eventually the battle went in Obi-Wan’s favor. His constant blocking was overwhelming Jango because Obi-Wan was always ready and was always countering. It was eventually to the point where Obi-Wan was starting to block attacks that had yet to be started. 

For once, he was the one invading Jango’s personal space, not giving him a lot of breathing room to move. Jango attempted to sweep Obi-Wan’s feet out from under him (not the first time, but the first time Obi-Wan jumped over it). His polearm slapped against the matte grey greaves. Obi-Wan brought his weapon down onto the top of Jango’s helmet. A metallic sound rang out as the _Mand’alor_ took a large step back. Then something hit the side of Obi-Wan’s head. He swung his polearm one more time and heard Jango make a noise that sounded like _ack_. 

The next thing Obi-Wan remembered was opening his eyes and finding that he was laying on the ground, his polearm laying a few feet away from him. His head hurt. He began to sit up but hands were on his shoulders and pushed him back to the ground. 

“Hey, hey… just hold still for a moment.” It was Shae. She was crouched and towering over him, blocking out the light that would otherwise blind him. 

“Huh?” 

“If he’s conscious, then he can sit up,” an unfamiliar feminine voice instructed. 

Shae grunted and she helped Obi-Wan sit up. His head felt full of clouds and he was greeted by the sight of Jango, helmetless with a bloody nose, getting checked over by a lavender Togruta. Odd, Obi-Wan wasn’t aware of Togruta becoming Mandalorians. She was without her _buy’ce_ but the rest of her _beskar_ was mostly teal with a slew of other colors painted on different utilities of her armor. 

“Dral, this is Xu. She is a medic, probably the most skilled _Mando_ medic,” Shae introduced. 

Xu observed Obi-Wan for a second. Her eyes were almost the same teal as her _beskar_ , and she looked young; the ends of her white and blue montrals barely resting on her shoulders as evidence. Her facial markings were thick, minimum in number, and almost in the shape of a V, and she was about the same size as Obi-Wan. Like Shaak Ti, she wore an Akhul-tooth headdress. 

“Do you know what happened?” she questioned. 

“I lost?” 

Xu smiled. “That’s up for debate. Jango gave you one good hit to the head and you were out. You, in turn, gave him a bloody nose and nailed him in the throat. If you both are feeling fine, then I can leave.” 

“Arlen, did I choose well?” Jango asked. He sounded loopy, even looked it a bit, but he was also holding a bloodied rag to his nose. 

Xu stood and gave Jango a funny look tinged with anger. Obi-Wan felt something brush against him in the Force. “Uh, yeah, sure. Looks like your waiting paid off.” 

Jango became gleeful as he turned his attention back to Obi-Wan. Obi-Wan smiled back at him but he didn’t miss how quickly Xu’s friendly expression faded as she turned away and left with an unnamed Mandalorian. 

* * *

The _Furnace_ was humming with energy as the crews chosen for the Black Sun job were preparing to depart. Everyone it seemed—this is including the ones who were staying on the _Furnace_ and not involved with the job—were excited. Who wouldn’t be? Their long-awaited _Mand’alor_ who has finally returned was leading a job (maybe like the old times). It was a moment to see; the _Mand’alor_ leaving with his _cyare_ at his side and their de facto leader not far behind. 

The _Furnace_ was positioned as close as possible. The additional ships for the job just had to leave the hangar, make a quick jump to hyperspace, and would be intercepting the Black Sun transport identifiable as _Travesty_. Fitting name. 

Myles and Silas were sitting in seats, behind the default pilot and co-pilot seats, that rose from the floor in the cockpit. They were strapped in and holding onto the straps that went across their chests. 

They could almost be brothers, Obi-Wan mused, but viewing your fellow Mandalorians as family is probably integral in Mandalorian society. That way, you know you can rely on the ones watching your back. 

Myles’ replacement on _Furnace_ gave the go-ahead to depart. Jango took ahold of the controls, Obi-Wan started flipping switches and pressing buttons on the console, then they were leading the way to _Travesty_. 

It wasn’t a bumpy flight (yet) but there was a chance that local defenses on the _Travesty_ would be active and each boarding party might have to carve their way aboard. Jango initially debated sticking Myles and Silas down near the cargo bay to sit on the manual turrets but decided against it. Obi-Wan would be able to control them and the additional turrets from the cockpit. He was taught how to, might as well affirm that by making sure they don’t get blasted to bits while trying to board an enemy ship. No pressure or anything… 

It was a short journey, and once they emerged from hyperspace, the two ships that are serving as a distraction and attacking the transport, zoomed past _Jaster’s Legacy_. Jango then gripped the controls and flew them toward the ship. 

Overall, it was a fairly easy feat. Jango was an expert at piloting and Obi-Wan had only a few small automated turrets to shoot. Once it was clear to dock, Jango attached _Jaster’s Legacy_ to the _Travesty_ , breached the entrance they were going to use, and extended the boarding tunnel. Myles and Silas were out of their seats in a flash and running through the airlock to cover Obi-Wan and Jango, who still had to put the ship in stand-by mode, unstrap themselves from their seats, and unholster their weapons. 

Before joining the fray, Jango stopped Obi-Wan in the cockpit. They both had their pistols in their hands, completely dressed in their gear (except Obi-Wan was without his neck gaiter as per Shae’s recommendation. He was also wearing his vest, his lightsabers sitting against his chest). Jango lifted his _buy’ce_ just enough so he could press a bruising kiss to Obi-Wan’s lips. 

Jango pulled away roughly and let his helmet slip back down and lock into place automatically. He grabbed the back of Obi-Wan’s neck and put their foreheads together. 

“Fight hard and show your strength. Just don’t do anything stupid,” Jango breathed. 

“You know me…” Obi-Wan was trying to tease. 

“I’m being serious, Dee.” 

“Jango!” Myles called through the boarding tunnel. Blaster shots and alarms were audible. “Come on, we have a schedule to keep!” 

Jango nodded, stepping away from Obi-Wan. He pointed his blasters toward the ceiling. “Then let’s move. We have some people to prove ourselves to.” 

There was a slight tremor in his voice and he was giving an impression of nervousness in the Force. Obi-Wan found himself grinning at the _Mand’alor_. He nodded and skipped out of the cockpit, picking up speed as he went through the airlock of the boarding tunnel then came to a clean stop next to Myles and Silas on the _Travesty_. The worker droids and few Black Sun members were taken care of by the time Obi-Wan joined them, Jango bursting out of the tunnel behind him. 

Myles and Silas were radiating energy, but Myles was partly on the grumpy side. He was scanning the halls with his blasters aimed. His rangefinder was lowered and there was a red light blinking on the outer shell of it. “It’s time for you to take the lead, _‘Alor_ ,” he informed tersely. “You’re lucky Vau didn’t insist on being on your team or else he would’ve already been on your case, but I _am_ recording so the others can see later.” 

“ETA?” Jango questioned as he started forward at a brisk walk, motioning for Obi-Wan to be at his side. 

“Depends on the amount of resistance we come across. Shae’s team has boarded but they are very near the armory. I estimate we will arrive in the central hall before them. Maybe 10 minutes?” Myles reported. He smoothly lowered his blasters and followed, Silas on his heels. 

“Is there any way to take some heat off them?” 

Myles, who had studied everything about the job religiously, responded, “No.” The ship shook under their feet from some type of explosion. “Bad breach on their part. The only thing we can do is reach the central hall and maybe start to clear their halls, but they’ll have already taken the initial beating.” After a second, he added, “Shae will get them out of there.” 

Obi-Wan didn’t share the same sentiment. Shae seemed better at hand-to-hand combat, not firing blasters… But he kept his mouth shut and simply followed Jango. They know the Togorian better than him, after all. 

Jango led the way through the halls. They went around a lot of corners, opening doors on their way to make sure they wouldn’t be attacked from behind. They were all pulling their own weight. Obi-Wan was able to clear small rooms on his own, his blaster pistols needing to fire very little due to their power they packed. At first, Silas, who followed right behind him, peeked into his rooms to make sure they were cleared out. After doing that several times, he began to stop. 

Obi-Wan never had the opportunity to use his _beskad_ , which was a bit disappointing, but he wasn’t surprised. 

They eventually reached the central hall, where the small hallway they just went through met up with the hall that Shae’s team would come through and the main hall to get to the bridge and brig, and worked to clear it. Not long after they cleared it, blasters were going off in the direction opposite they came from. Shae and Osia appeared from that direction to join them after rounding a corner with their blasters drawn. There was a large, bloody gash under Shae’s clavicular notch and Osia began to distractedly root around for something in her wide utility belt pouches. 

“Where are Kal and Walon?” Jango growled. 

“We got split up,” Shae reported. She grunted when Osia finally pulled out a hypo of bacta and injected it into the Togorian’s shoulder. “Hall collapsed. They said they would make their way toward the brig.” 

“Are you kidding?” Jango groaned. He grabbed at his head with his hands still holding his blasters. Eyes were focused on him and scanning the halls at the same time. “Well just you two can’t go or else you risk getting killed.” 

“I think I can handle it,” Shae spoke up. 

“No,” the _Mand’alor_ snapped harshly. 

Silence droned between all of them as they waited for orders. The ship’s alarms somehow weren’t filling the silence, just making it worse. 

“Silas, join them.” 

Silas looked at Jango. Obi-Wan could detect him silently pleading. He would rather stay with his leader and attack the bridge but he didn’t want to say it out loud in fear of also getting snapped at. But then Myles nudged Silas in the side and Obi-Wan had to wonder if they were having a private conversation under their helmets through comms. 

“ _Elek_ , _‘Alor_ ,” Silas finally muttered with a bowed head. 

“But might you need the support?” Shae objected. She motioned toward the doors that led to the bridge. It was locked up. The way to the brig looked clear. “Who knows what is beyond the doors.” 

Jango turned to face his advisor. “Osia, get that door open. Then, you, Shae, and Silas will make your way toward the brig.” His body still faced the Togorian but he turned his head to look at Myles. Osia moved from her place next to Shae to approach the control panel of the door to begin fiddling with it. “Will the _Furnace_ be ready for pick-up?” 

Myles nodded curtly. “She is just waiting for the call.” 

“Call when we disable the ship from the bridge.” 

Myles nodded again. 

While they were talking, Obi-Wan began to sense a bad feeling encroaching him. It covered his shoulders like a thick cloak and yet it left him feeling cold. It had to be coming from the Force, but he didn’t know why it was just _now_ affecting him. They weren’t close to the brig so he wouldn’t be sensing the atrocities committed there. Was it the bridge, then? He hadn’t been keeping tabs on the Force since boarding _Travesty_ but it was still odd that he was feeling it now. 

He approached Osia to ‘watch’ what she was doing. It was nothing that he couldn’t do, in all honesty… He mostly just walked her way to feel and listen to the Force instead of witnessing Shae and Jango silently challenge each other. Osia didn’t pay him much mind. She glanced up at him curiously before getting back to work and minding her own business. 

But back to the Force… it was trying to warn him of something. But of what, it was hard to make out. It was alarming but Obi-Wan couldn’t do much with a warning without the context of what the warning means. It was already hard to tell which side of the Force was trying to communicate with him. If he doesn’t identify which is trying to communicate with him, then he might act with the wrong intentions. 

_Don’t go to the bridge…_

_Go to the bridge._

He closed his eyes to blink for just a second and the Force assaulted his senses. Wind roared in his ears and an even worse cold blanketed his shoulders and spread down his spine. His nose picked up the scent of burning wood. His gloved hands had briefly felt like he was using a telekinetic ability of the Force but they were down at his sides and weren’t affecting anything. 

He took a deep breath in that was a bit too loud, judging by how Osia looked up at him and stared at him behind her black T-shaped visor. However, it appeared she was finished. She was putting the control panel back in place. Once she had it situated, she pressed a button and the door started sliding open. 

Obi-Wan found himself rooted in place. The Force was still trying to communicate with him. It… it was telling him to go to the bridge, after just whispering not to. But it was becoming persistent. _Go to the bridge. Go to the bridge. Go to the bridge, go to the bridge, go to the bridge…_ He was planning to go to the bridge. The door was open, they could make their way there now. 

_Alone._

A stress headache was starting and it was increasing in intensity fast. The Force’s insistence was causing it but was trying to soothe it at the same time. 

_Go to the bridge alone…_

Obi-Wan felt like he was tripping over his feet as he turned to look down the newly exposed hall. Facing however many Black Sun mercenaries on his own would be dangerous, Force or not. And he was supposed to be doing this with Jango and Myles. Myles was even recording so fellow Mandalorians could see Obi-Wan’s performance and judge his skills. He… he supposed he didn’t need them at his back to attack the bridge. He has faced worse with no armor and no lightsaber. It was risky but possible to take the bridge on his own. 

Although… why was the Force insisting this? 

_Protected. You will be, they will be…_

Right, because that made sense. 

_You will be proven._

Obi-Wan looked over his shoulder as the Force silently urged him forward. It looked like Jango was giving directions to Shae, Osia, and Silas. Myles was standing at his side obediently, listening intently. It was probably Obi-Wan’s best opportunity to leave them behind. 

His feet started forward automatically, the Force whispering encouragements and directions in his head. Taking long strides to get him through the threshold of the large doors. He heard a shout behind him so he flicked his hand at his side, willing the doors to close as he went through them. They shut behind him quickly so he approached the control panel on his side of the door. One button read ‘Lockdown’ so he pressed that, and for extra measures, he reached out with the Force to distort the edges of the door so it would have a hard time opening back up if Osia could manage to open it again. 

_“Dral!”_ Jango’s voice barked over comms. Obi-Wan flinched from the volume. He turned on a heel and started down the new hall, heart beginning to race as the Force urged him on, promising it would protect him… _“Don’t you_ dare _go ahead without us!”_ He addressed the Mandalorians with him on the same channel (but his external mic probably wasn’t muted), _“Shae, Silas, go. Osia,_ eda ibac surnr tenn _.”_

Jango was pissed. Obi-Wan could feel it through the door. The others were confused and a bit panicked themselves but they began to carry out Jango’s orders. He’s going to kill Obi-Wan later. And if Obi-Wan is already dead by the time he is reached, then he is sure Jango will find a way to revive him just to kill him himself… 

Obi-Wan muted his comlink so he could focus on his task. 

The Force was urging Obi-Wan forward again so he began to run down the newly-exposed hall with the Force seeping into his limbs and mind. It felt good and wrong at the same time. Good because he never let it take hold anymore, he hasn’t been able to experience it boosting his abilities lately. But it also felt wrong because it wasn’t the same soothing feeling he grew up knowing. Now it felt sharp, like one wrong move and Obi-Wan will suffer from injury. If he didn't obey the Force with it coursing through him, it might just lash out in retaliation. 

At least his headache was dulled… replaced by the lull of the Force roaring throughout him. 

The first Black Sun mercenaries he came across didn’t stand a chance, even when he armed himself only with his _beskad_. He pulled the blade out once he started running and deflected the blaster bolts effortlessly, deflecting them to kill one of the mercenaries and burying the blade of his weapon in the chest of the other. He did that when he came across pairs of mercenaries. 

His other way of attacking was quite a bit more destructive. He tore his way through the hall. Literally. He pulled the sheets of durasteel toward him to create sharp edges to kill enemies on and to also make it harder for the Mandalorians to follow him. It looked terrible, like a grenade went off and mangled the corridor. 

Black Sun mercenaries dotted the bridge. They all froze when Obi-Wan arrived, bloody _beskad_ held in front of himself in the stance of Form IV and panting like he just ran a marathon. Shock was the most prevalent emotion in the room. Anger and fear were next in line. 

Obi-Wan’s attention was grabbed by movement near the furthest console. A pale, yellow-skinned Mirialan with messy black hair and markings on his face in the shape of the Black Sun symbol… It couldn’t be, but it was. It was Cadzi, that Mirialan Obi-Wan and Jango played sabacc against. The one who Obi-Wan cheated against and won and then shot at them because he detected Obi-Wan’s cheating. Obi-Wan then accused him of smuggling slaves. He’s glad to see his accusation turned out to be correct. 

“Well, I’ll be…” Cadzi said from across the room. “If you were wanting one of those piloting jobs, this was not the way to contact me for it.” 

Indescribable rage filled Obi-Wan from head to toe. “No, here for something else.” 

Cadzi’s nose scrunched up with distaste. “Yeah? Well, you’re not getting them, you rabid lunatic.” He pulled out his blaster and shot instantly. Obi-Wan deflected the bolt back at him and leaped toward the nearest mercenary to deal with next. 

Obi-Wan was playing a dangerous game by dealing with Cadzi last but it had to be done. It felt like time had slowed around him as he dashed from target to target. Finally, he simply stopped using the blade to kill. He continued deflecting blaster bolts with it but started reaching out with the Force to kill instead. He reached out with an outstretched hand, gripped a victim each telekinetically, and crushed them. They died pretty much instantaneously. Just like Dev. He was killing them all just like Dev… 

Deep down he knew it was wrong. It was wrong on so many levels. They were all suffering. Obi-Wan shouldn’t kill like he was now. He should’ve made it simple, painless. But the Force was telling him to continue. It was lending him so much energy and power, he had to do it. It was self-defense. Revenge for those imprisoned in the brig. 

Obi-Wan’s limbs were burning by the time he turned to deal with Cadzi, the last remaining Black Sun mercenary in the bridge. The Mirialan was no longer firing his blaster, his weapon down at his side and other hand gripping his belt. 

“You’re a monster,” he accused, hushed. 

“You’re no better.” Obi-Wan struggled to get his words out. His headache was back with a vengeance. He was beginning to suffer from Force burnout. He hasn’t experienced it much in his life. He never had much reason to overdo it. Kencha and Qui-Gon encouraged him to not solve all of his problems with the Force. This has been the worst it has ever been. 

Cadzi’s eyes darted to a nearby Black Sun member choking on their own blood. Obi-Wan paid them no mind, slowly advancing on Cadzi. 

“I’m not too sure about that…” the Mirialan scoffed. 

Obi-Wan raised his _beskad_ , the world threatening to turn on its side as he did so. Cadzi saw the slowed movement and acted fast. He swiped out with his own melee weapon. It caught Obi-Wan’s abdomen, just below where his armor ended. He recognized the weapon. A little knife, suitable for throwing and hiding in boots… it was his knife, the one he stabbed Cadzi with before they parted ways on Coruscant. 

Thankfully the wound wasn’t quite fatal. Obi-Wan took a step back. The Force was offering him a chance for one last hurrah. He was going to take it. He could barely feel his limbs through the pain coursing through his entire being, but he had enough to finish the fight. 

With surprising speed, he lurched forward. Cadzi moved to also attack but Obi-Wan battled the knife away with the blunt edge of his _beskad_. He then brought the blade in the other direction, swiping across the front of Cadzi’s chest armor, pulled back, then sunk the _beskar_ blade through a small gap between the durasteel plates. The blade penetrated his left lung. Obi-Wan kept it there and watched the Mirialan’s face slowly blank and limbs slacken. They both lowered to the ground. 

“You’re one of those… Sith…” Cadzi managed to say around the blood filling his mouth. 

“You don’t know what you’re talking about,” Obi-Wan hissed in return. 

But Cadzi was no longer in any condition to say more. He merely laughed wetly, blood bubbling between his lips. 

He and Cadzi fully collapsed to the ground. The rush from the Force was completely gone now and Obi-Wan was left with only pain. Not even adrenaline remained so he didn’t have to feel the additional pain in his abdomen. His head spun and he was beginning to feel nauseous from that and his senses experiencing overload (or maybe it was just because the onset of Force burnout was happening). He reached out to grab his knife and pocketed it before rolling onto his back to stare at the ceiling and let _everything_ crash into him. 

He felt alone. There was no living life force near him. Jango and his Mandalorians were still behind. Worst of all, the Force was out of reach. There was no way he could summon it if he wanted to. It was punishment for his actions and for pushing the limit. He deserved it. 

It was becoming overwhelming. Every single one of his nerves was alight with pain. His joints were sore as if he was suffering from a sickness. Even breathing, which caused little movement, was painful, and not just in his lungs. He laid like that for who knows how long until black—like a wave in an ocean—overtook all of his senses and put him out of his misery. 

* * *

Pain was there to greet Obi-Wan when he woke up next. Pain and darkness, more or less the same thing that he experienced when he fell unconscious. Except this darkness wasn’t caused by his closing eyelids or body saying enough was enough. He was in a building of some sort, the lights turned off, and air littered with little dust particles that sparkled from the light coming in from the open doorway that led directly to the outside. So he wasn’t on a ship… he was planetside. 

Obi-Wan got up to his elbows after a bit of struggling and looked down at his torso. He was wearing an unfamiliar button-up shirt that was open. It looked old and dusty, as if it originated from the building he was in. Since the shirt was opened, he looked down at his abdomen wrapped in bandages, a large bacta patch sticking out in some places. It didn’t look like a medical droid’s work, but after a bit of movement, it could be argued that something beneath the materials was holding his wound together (if he weren’t being held together with actual stitches then the next go-to would have been zip stitches). 

His body protested as he slowly sat up and dangled his legs off the cushioned bench he was laid upon. His head in particular was objecting, begging for him to lay back down and sleep the pain off. It hurt so much to move but he wanted to get up and move around and find out where he was. 

On a little side table were his folded-up vest and long-sleeve shirt. His cuirass next to them. There was blood on his shirt. His heart started pounding, though, when he started thinking of how easily Jango could have opened the vest, opened just one pocket, and a lightsaber would have been right there in view. 

He needed to get his bearings before thinking the worst. 

As soon as Obi-Wan was on his feet, his head declared enough. He stooped over, leaning against a vertical support beam, and gagged involuntarily. Nothing came and he felt some relief at that. No blood so his wound wasn’t fatal and no food because it would have all digested by now. But after that little episode, he forced his sore legs toward the exit, where there was no door but a gaping entrance that looked blown open from an explosion. 

There was a little porch. It was tucked in between the three U-shaped walls around it. Jango sat on the steps of the porch, slumped over and hugging his knees. He felt calm, if not a bit worried, in the Force. His posture suggested that he might have been sitting like that for some time. Maybe he took a nap at one point, while he was at it. Obi-Wan didn’t know how long he would’ve been sitting out here. 

Obi-Wan didn’t try to quiet his trudging as he approached the other man. Jango didn’t turn to greet him, still facing forward as Obi-Wan fully approached and sat down slowly next to him. There was some space between them. Obi-Wan made sure of it because Jango was also stewing in his head and was clearly bothered by his thoughts. 

He didn’t know what to say, so he stayed quiet. He looked out at the scenery. Golden overgrown fields of weeds and cereals and maybe some other types of crops were on the property. Debris from older vehicles and the building they were in was basically on the porch’s doorstep (a little exaggerated there, the debris was on the front lawn but closer to the building than the fields). _Jaster’s Legacy_ was parked behind the debris that looked like vehicles. Even further than the farm seemed like rolling plains. In another direction was what looked like a forest and a few degrees off from it looked to be a town. 

Overall, it was a homey place, if maybe abandoned-looking. Nothing about it seemed hostile, which was good… But why were they here? Why weren’t they with the True Mandalorians? Did something go wrong and they all had to split up? He hoped nothing went wrong… Obi-Wan would hate to hear that he burdened them by passing out before things turned dicey. 

Obi-Wan looked down at the bandages wrapped around his gut. “What happened?” 

Jango was tense before but he appeared to be stiffer after Obi-Wan spoke. Without looking at the younger man, he responded, “You tell me. Or do I even want to know?” 

There. The familiar, accusatory tone. It has been a few months since it was directed at Obi-Wan himself. Well maybe if Jango _tried_ to understand or listen when Obi-Wan was talking to him about Force-sensitives… 

“May I get some clarification?” Obi-Wan returned coldly. 

Jango’s head snapped in his direction. His eyes expressed his anger and exhaustion and worry all at once. Part of his lip curled in a sneer. “I don’t even know where to start… You ran forward and locked us out. You could have died! And you killed all of those mercenaries, some not even with your _beskad_. _That_ part _really_ didn’t make sense to me. Also, how the kriff did you nearly tear off full sheets of ship-grade durasteel?” Jango turned away to face the fields. “I’m not sure how you caused the damage that you did, and you know? I don’t think I want to know.” 

Obi-Wan didn’t like the emotion he felt at Jango’s last sentence. Dejection? It felt a lot like how he felt when Qui-Gon said that he didn’t want Obi-Wan as his Padawan. But at the same time, it was a bit different because it was Jango making him feel this way; the man who Obi-Wan has been sharing a bed with for weeks; the man Obi-Wan is now probably on the path to marrying, if the True Mandalorians have their way. The man who Obi-Wan felt love for, even if he tends to keep those emotions below surface-level. 

But what could Obi-Wan possibly do _now_? He has tried telling Jango—or hinting, at the very least—that he is Force-sensitive. The destruction he caused was damning to a Force user. It showed that he wasn’t in control and unpredictable. And weak. He took and took and took from the Force and the light side was hardly even there from the start. It was the light side telling him to not go to the bridge and it was the dark side that overpowered it and empowered Obi-Wan on his slaughtering spree. 

Weak. 

Obi-Wan bowed his head in shame. Oh, how he has fallen from grace. He hasn’t Fallen yet, but he was getting closer and closer, whether he likes it or not. The pain he has been experiencing ever since he woke up (minus the wound to his gut) was a repercussion from allowing the dark side in. Maybe it was time to end the partnership with Jango and turn himself in to the Council where they will decide what to do with him… 

“It’s something we should discuss but now is not the time.” Jango’s voice was softer. “How are you feeling?” 

“Like I’ve been turned inside-out.” Obi-Wan cringed at his own words. He felt eyes studying him. “But… what _exactly_ happened? After I passed out, did something go wrong? Why are we here? Where even are we?” 

Jango sighed. “To start from the top, the job experienced no other hitches after Osia finally got the doors open. By that time, she just came with us to the bridge and she released the prisoners then and there since you cleared the room. We came across you, cold and barely breathing, so Myles told me to grab you, return to _Jaster’s Legacy_ , and leave, so that’s what I did. The medical droid administered first aid while I set the course to Concord Dawn. So here we are, on Concord Dawn, on my old homestead. Myles and the crew are dealing with those we freed, so we have time to relax before we are due back.” 

The breeze—which wasn’t affecting them since they were sheltered on the porch—picked up. The overgrown fields rolled like a golden ocean. It was beautiful, but it did not match the sorrow Jango was feeling now that he was back at his childhood home. 

“When was the last time you were back here?” 

“I was a teenager, long after Death Watch came through. Jaster brought me back. He wanted me to make peace with the past.” 

“And did you?” 

Jango shrugged. “I never stopped being angry. I experienced a lot of emotions when I became a Mandalorian and rage was always one of them. Even when I was a slave and felt like a husk of myself, anger was always there to spur me on. It wasn’t until I killed Tor Vizsla when my anger was finally smothered… but then emptiness just took its place. You live for revenge then fulfill it, you’re left with no purpose.” 

“I’m… sorry.” Obi-Wan didn’t know what else to say. He knew what it felt like to be a slave. They both were imprisoned for similar reasons; Jango because he was a True Mandalorian and Obi-Wan because he was a Jedi. He couldn’t necessarily say that, though. 

“Don’t,” Jango grumbled scornfully. His shoulders rose. “You should be sorry for what you did on the job. You foolishly rushing forward and leaving us locked out could have lost you any approval you might have gained from the beginning of our attack. A reckless _Mando_ is a threat to themself and the _Mando’ade_. You could’ve gotten yourself killed. You looked _dead_ when we came across you.” He turned sharply to face Obi-Wan. “You’re part of my responsibility, whether you like it or not. I’m supposed to teach you how to be a bounty hunter and that requires self-preservation skills. Maybe I didn’t preach about that enough. Becoming a _Mando_ requires that same skill. What if you had died? Do you know how many people you would have affected?” 

“Jango…” Obi-Wan reached to put a hand on his upper arm. 

“No, don’t.” Jango’s voice cracked. Obi-Wan felt his distress in the Force. “You don’t think before you act! One of these times, it’ll be the last! Who do you think will have to pick up the pieces? The ripple your death will have? As I said, you don’t think!” 

“I had it under control, stop underestimating me!” Obi-Wan barked harshly in reply. His head pulsed with a harsh wave of pain. He hissed through his teeth and retracted his limbs to press at his temples. Nausea threatened to overcome him but he was prepared to swallow the feeling back down. 

Jango was starting to calm down (artificially. He was still angry, deep down) but Obi-Wan felt like a new can of worms had been opened thanks to his foolishness and it was going to be held over his head like an embarrassing memory normally is. 

“You should rest,” the _Mand’alor_ mumbled. “You need it.” He pushed himself up with a grunt, but not before leaning in to plant a gentle kiss on Obi-Wan’s forehead. 

Obi-Wan was fighting against the pain in his head to speak. “Where are you going?” 

“To take a walk around the property.” 

“I want to come with you.” 

Jango audibly sighed. “I don’t think so.” He leaned forward again and Obi-Wan felt a prick on the side of his neck. He pulled away, holding an empty hypo. 

_He did_ **_not_** _._

Oh, but he did… 

Obi-Wan’s tired and worn-out body was already feeling the effects of sedation. He could try to fight it all he wanted but the Force was still unwilling to lend him aid and his body was too wrung from letting the dark side course through him. 

His body began to topple but Jango was there to scoop him up, returning him to the cushioned bench he recently awoke on inside. 

“You _sheb_ ,” Obi-Wan managed before he was completely pulled under. 

Jango was covering him with the blanket he made for the younger man. He smiled, a pinched and sad expression. “You can scold me for it later, _cyar’ika_ , when you’ll instead be thankful I forced your body to rest.” 

He probably would be, but Obi-Wan currently only felt shallow betrayal as he was forced into the unconscious world once more. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Translations:  
> kathare - cheap  
> riduur - partner, spouse  
> Mand’alor bal De'alor akaanir - The sole ruler and second ruler fight  
> cyare - beloved, loved  
> cyar'ika - darling, sweetheart  
> beskad - a slightly curved blade of Mandalorian iron  
> elek - yes  
> eda ibac surnr tenn - get that door open  
> sheb - ass


End file.
